


The Golden Quartet: The Chamber of Secrets

by IziWilson76



Series: The Golden Quartet [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: American Student, American Witch, Chamber of Secrets, F/M, Golden Quartet, Mystery, NOT A MARY SUE!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-08-21 17:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 69,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8254244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IziWilson76/pseuds/IziWilson76
Summary: Fresh and ready for her second year at Hogwarts, Tess Crosswell is back with the Golden Quartet. Even though the year starts out...wild, things soon get hairy (pun intended) as students start to be petrified, blood is written on walls and it's only a matter of time before Harry becomes the prime suspect behind the attacks. Can Harry and Tess stop the Heir of Slytherin in time?





	1. Life in The Big City

The industrial City of New York was dazzling that night. The lights filling the sky, the city life pulsing in the air. People of all ages, races, and kinds walked through the streets, passing by the swarm of yellow taxis. The looming heatwave didn't seem to faze anyone since it was a fine summer night at the end of July and people tended to go out, have fun in many ways.

Including a zooming figure on the street, not on broom, but on skateboard. The figure had a hoodie on so no one would see her. She was skated on the sidewalks, sliding on every ramp and half pike that she could get her hands on. Not every sidewalk was filled with electricity contrary to one's thoughts of the city so this gave her a daredevil cover as she travelled west from Broadway to the Columbus Park, going down to Chambers Street.

Stopping at the border of a new block on a nearby bench, the 12 year old figure laid down her skateboard to take a breather. She lifted her grey hoodie, allowing the moonlight to brighten her fair skin and golden hair. She blinked her violet eyes a few times before taking out her photograph of herself with her friends at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Of course. Quintessa Crosswell was not a normal girl. In fact, she was anything but normal and it wasn't just her street smarts and bad girl demeanor. No, Tess, was in fact, a witch fresh of her freshman year or first year. A British-American witch indeed. A year prior, when she was 11 years old and it was time for her to go to school, she was given a choice based on her being both a British and an American citizen. It took some convincing but Tess managed to choose the school that she secretly wanted to go to. When she went there, she met 3 best friends anyone could ask for, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and went on an adventure and solved a mystery with her friends that she thought had shaped her life. But the Stone Case was just the beginning of her and her friends' journey.

But she had to get dinner for her hardworking aunt, Sara Crosswell, who had raised Tess since her mother's death. along with her 16 year old son, Johnnie Crosswell. So she stopped by the pizza place, and got a paper bag containing two slices of pepperoni pizza. Crossing the street onto Central Park and into the massive community center, she skated her way past pedestrians and police and some of the Salem Squad. Past the rustling of the trees and using the light of the full moon to guide her out, she came in front of the Woolworth Building, also known to the American Wizards as the headquarters for the Magical Congress for the United States of America, also known as MACUSA, the American Wizarding government.

Knowing some of the staff, who also are very rude to people like Sara for being Squibbs, Tess entered the building and made a beeline for Sara's tiny cubicle of an office.

"Hey Aunt Sara." She greeted the blonde woman. "I brought you dinner."

"Is my own niece bringing me dinner?" Sara asked smiling. "You are the sweetest, kindest, most conniving little con artist ever to have existed. You're so not getting your broom back."

"What?" Tess asked. "Come on Aunt Sara!"

"After what happened?" Sara asked rhetorically. "Absolutely not!"

"Aunt Sara, it was **one** slip up!" Tess complained.

"Slip up?" Sara questioned. "A dozen calls from No Maj's and wizards combined reporting a little girl doing dangerous stunts while somehow flying on a broom right next to the Statue of Liberty? Why would you try to pull off a round off and a flip off a broom at Lady Liberty?"

"It was a really nice night ok?" Tess asked. "Can I get it back anytime soon?"

"Hmm let me think." Sara said in mock wonder before slamming her fist on the table. "No. Oh and you're going to the Burrow with Johnnie. Hey, you may not want him there, but he wants to spend time with you and see your friends. But I will take this dinner you got for me. Thanks Tess!" Sara grabbed the paper bag and walked off but not before she stopped at a sign posted on the wall that said, "Go back to your filth Squibb."

Anger coursed through me as I snarled out, "That's it. Screw going home, this ends here and now!" I walked out into the hallway but Sara used her sharp fingernails to pull me by the ear back into her office.

"Tess I understand that you want to help." She said.

"Of course I want to help." said Tess. "Help in teaching them a lesson. Cause let me tell you I am prepared to go all Danny Larusso on them."

"I still need to keep up a good repertoire or else I could lose my job." She said.

"You've been getting harassed more than ever." said Tess. "And you know what that inclines me to do? Make sure that they leave you alone."

"As your aunt a mother, I'm inclined to make my children safe and happy." Sara said to me solftley. "Now go home and pack your bags. And tell Johnnie to come back once he finally takes a break."

I scoffed. "The day Johnnie Crosswell stops working is the day of the Apocalypse."

Meanwhile in a local diner, people were still coming in, despite the late hours. Most of those people were just tourists. Some of the waiters were done, including one waiter who had worked two hours more than the average time. But he usually worked for 3 hours per job. Yes, Johnnie Croswell had 3 jobs. Johnnie was Tess' cousin who had come off of his OWL's fresh with flying colors. Johnnie was a gangly teenager with dark hair, tanned skin that had gotten tanner because of the heatwave that summer, but fortunately, his tan brought out his brown eyes even more. He was a determined young wizard who always held his position as the man of the house, since his father, Michael Crosswell was dead from the first Wizarding War.

Johnnie walked out of the diner, wiping the sweat off of his brow as he started to walk home.

"Oh Johnnie!" A Brooklyn voice sounded from behind him in falsetto tone. Johnnie took a look and saw that it was his best friends, Cody Novak and Woody Goldstein, two wizards, one from Texas and Brooklyn. Cody was a tall kid with laid out blonde hair expensive hipster clothes for he came from a very wealthy family. Woody was a scrawny boy with straw in his mouth, sandy hair and a face that was splattered with freckles, even in one eye. "Just the man I wanted to see!"

"Cody." Johnnie said to his classmates. "Just the man I want to see, when I'm not tired and have time away from my family."

"Now normally I'd be insulted by that." Cody said walking up to him. "But I've still come to have a talk, but first things first, it's gonna be about that shirt." He gestured to the green t shirt that had dirt caked on it from his job at construction.

"Look dude, now is not a good time." said Johnnie. "I've got to go back home and start packing for my trip to the Burrow."

"Ah." said Cody in understanding. "You still haven't told Tess yet have ya?"

"Why you so scared of telling the gal that yous goin to law school boy?" Woody asked.

"Because…" Johnnie said trailing off. "I'm not available the next summer and right after graduation I'm going directly to law school."

"And because she can take you." Cody reminded his best friend.

Johnnie scoffed. "She cannot take me."

"She put you in a headlock with her thumb." Cody said.

"You went deep in naptime." Woody chimed in. "And missed November. Theys had to fill your lungs with them bicycle pumps."

"Ok." Johnnie said admitting it. "Maybe she can take me. Which is why I've written everything in a letter. She'll understand when she reads it. And I will **nowhere** near when she does."

"Actually my friend." Cody said to him. "I've gots a much more ace idea."

"You're finally getting a job?" Woody asked. "What is it? Working in a mill?"

"No and God Forbid." Cody responded. "Instead, I think I can help you with this pesky Tessy business."

"Oh no." Johnnie said worried. "You're thinking. And nothing good comes from you thinking too much."

"Don't worry." Cody said assuredly. "It's still an idea on how to redeem yourself. And besides, they're the only kind I have."

"Alright then." Woody said. "Shoot away cowboy."

"There's one way to settle a mess this hot." said Cody. "Especially with the women. Tell..it to..her FACE!"

"No way!" Johnnie exclaimed. "If I just tell her directly, she might literally kill me. And then after that she's got three tight friends who are ready to bury me."

"And just who might those friends be?" Cody asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hermione Granger." Johnnie listed. "Ron Weasley and Harry Potter."

"Wait hold up right there partner." Woody said putting a hand up to Johnnie's face. "Yous telling us that your almost-stiff cousin is friends with **the** Harry Potter?"

"It's true." Johnnie said. "I met him at the train station last year when me and Mom were getting Tess."

"Are you pushing me in shit now?" Cody asked excited.

"Nope." Johnnie said proudly.

"Oh that is fucking awesome." Woody said excited. "I mean this will be the best thing Christ has ever given to Earth." Right then a girl in silky and clean clothing came catwalking besides the boys. She had bright blonde hair and cold blue eyes. Her outfit consisted of black and red and she had somewhat of a cold and cruel air coming off her. "Since the birth of Scarlett Zimmerman. Hey Scarlett." She didn't even notice him. To her, Woody Goldstein didn't exist. "You look...like you're gonna walk over me...again."

Cody turned to face Johnnie who was trying not to laugh at Woody's pick up lines that failed. "You're the cause of this, you know that Crosswell?"

"Oh yeah." Johnnie said sarcastically walking with the two wizards to his appartment.

"Dragging us down to your Mama's boy depths." Woody added on jokingly. "We're all dweebs by association. We've been dweeb badged by you."


	2. Of To Rescue Our Bad Lucked Friend

Tess finished packing her suitcase with the things she needed for school and for regular days. Feeling something light hit her head, she picked it up and saw that it was a letter.

"Nice, Crucible." She said to her raven owl who chirped in a very sassy manner. Rolling her eyes, Tess opened the letter to see that it was from her friend, Ronald Weasley.

_Dear Tess,_

_I want to get back at you and say that the entire family is ready to meet you and Johnnie. Hermione is going to meet us in Diagon Alley for when we go shopping._

_However, Harry hasn't been responding to any of his letters. Hermione and I are getting worried. Fred, George and I are planning to break him out but we need your help._

_We plan to strike on the night you're coming._

_Miss you,_

_Ron._

"So Harry hasn't been responding to just you." I heard Johnnie's voice.

"Reading over my shoulder?" I asked rhetorically. "For real?"

Johnnie rolled his eyes in amusement. "Come on. I've already packed."

"And how long ago was that?" I quizzed.

"A few days ago." He said. "Doesn't matter. Look Tess, about Harry…"

"I know it seems risky with the fact that his relatives are No Maj's." said Tess. "But he is my best friend and I'm not gonna abandon him. Like it or not, I'm busting him out."

"Tess!" Johnnie exclaimed. "Are you gonna keep talking or are you gonna get in the grate so we can go to the burrow and **then** bust him out?"

Tess' purple eyes widened and she ran over to him in pure happiness. "Johnnie you're the best!" She said hugging him.

"Easy there cuz." He said pushing her off. "But you're right, I am."

"You're really gonna help us?" She asked.

"I'm not so much of a Mama's Boy as you think I am."

Lighting up the Floo Network, the duo stepped in and magically made their way to the Weasley House.

"That was a rush." Johnnie said. "Travelling by Floo internationally."

"Yep." She said. "It's four in the morning. So Fred and George should be up right about now."

"How do you know they're up at this time?" Johnnie asked.

"Please." Tess scowled. "The Weasley Twins are always up to something."

"Oi." A voice sounded. "Are you two Yankees gonna keep shouting or are you coming?" It was Fred Weasley.

"Hey Fred." Tess said. "Do you have any brooms? Johnnie and I don't."

"Oh Forge!" Fred said singsongy. His twin stepped out and handed the American Wizards two battered Cleansweeps. "Sorry, they're not in mint condition but they still can fly you two."

"Mint or moldy." Johnnie said. "Any broom is a good broom, as long as it's not in pieces."

"Come on." Ron said opening the door. The young wizards sneaked out, the Weasleys got in the Enchanted Ford Angela and the Crosswells mounted their brooms. "Does anyone know Harry's adress?"

"My friend here does." Tess gestured to her owl that was perched on her shoulder. "She's got an excellent memory. Crucible, lead the way to Number 4 Privet Drive."

The raven owl flying in the right direction, the car buzzed to life and the brooms took off.


	3. I Meet Harry's Stiff Family

Three days after the whipped pudding fiasco, the Dursleys were showing no sign of relenting, and Harry couldn't see any way out of his situation. He lay on his bed watching the sun sinking behind the bars on the window and wondered miserably what was going to happen to him.

What was the good of magicking himself out of his room if Hogwarts would expel him for doing it? Yet life at Privet Drive had reached an all-time low. Now that the Dursleys knew they weren't going to wake up as fruit bats, he had lost his only weapon. Dobby might have saved Harry from horrible happenings at Hogwarts, but the way things were going, he'd probably starve to death anyway.

The cat-flap rattled and Aunt Petunias hand appeared, pushing a bowl of canned soup into the room. Harry, whose insides were aching with hunger, jumped off his bed and seized it. The soup was stone-cold, but he drank half of it in one gulp. Then he crossed the room to Hedwig's cage and tipped the soggy vegetables at the bottom of the bowl into her empty food tray. She ruffled her feathers and gave him a look of deep disgust.

"It's no good turning your beak up at it - that's all we've got," said Harry grimly.

He put the empty bowl back on the floor next to the cat-flap and lay back down on the bed, somehow even hungrier than he had been before the soup.

Supposing he was still alive in another four weeks, what would happen if he didn't turn up at Hogwarts? Would someone be sent to see why he hadn't come back? Would they be able to make the Dursleys let him go?

The room was growing dark. Exhausted, stomach rumbling, mind spinning over the same unanswerable questions, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep. But not before he had a strange dream and that was broken by the sound of an owl screeching and tapping on the windor.

"Stop it," Harry muttered as the rattling pounded in his sore head. "Leave me alone ... cut it out ... I'm trying to sleep . . . ."

He opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And an owl accompanied by several red heads and a gangly teenager on a broom was looking through the window.

Ron. Fred. George." breathed Harry, creeping to the window and pushing it up so they could talk through the bars.

"Johnnie, Tess." A sassy American voice piped up. "Great, now that we've had roll call, can you get your things so we can save your ass?"

"But, how did you - What the -?"

Harry's mouth fell open as the full impact of what he was seeing hit him. Ron was leaning out of the back window of an old turquoise car, which was parked in midair Grinning at Harry from the front seats were Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers. The two teenagers on brooms, were his friends Johnnie and Tess Crosswell.

"You ok, Harry?" asked George.

"What's been going on?" said Ron. "Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles -"

"It wasn't me - and how did he know?"

"He works for the Ministry," said Ron. "You know we're not supposed to do spells outside school -"

"You should talk," said Harry, staring at the floating car.

"Oh, this doesn't count," said Ron. "We're only borrowing this. It's Dad's, we didn't enchant it. But doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with -"

"I told you, I didn't - but it'll take too long to explain now look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won't let me come back, and obviously I can't magic myself out, because the Ministry'Il think that's the second spell I've done in three days, so -"

"Cease fire on the blabber mill," said Tess cooly. "We've come to take you home with us."

"But you can't magic me out either -"

"Do you have any idea how many buildings Tess has broken into?" asked Johnnie, jerking his head toward his cousin and grinning. "You forget who I've got with me."

"You guys got some rope?" Tess asked.

"Tie that around the bars," said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to her.

"If the Dursleys wake up, I'm dead," said Harry as she tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car.

"Don't worry," said Fred, "and stand back."

Harry moved back into the shadows next to Hedwig, who seemed to have realized how important this was and kept still and silent. The car revved louder and louder and suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars were pulled clean out of the window as Fred drove straight up in the air with Johnnie and Tess getting out of the way. Harry ran back to the window to see the bars dangling a few feet above the ground. Panting, Ron hoisted them up into the car. Harry listened anxiously, but there was no sound from the Dursleys' bedroom.

When the bars were safely in the back seat with Ron, Fred reversed as close as possible to Harry's window.

"Get in." Ron said.

"But all my Hogwarts stuff - my wand - my broomstick -"

"Where is it?" asked Tess.

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room -"

"No problem," said Johnnie from the front passenger seat. "Out of the way, Harry."

The 16 year old American wizard climbed catlike through the window into Harry's room.

You had to hand it to Americans. thought Harry, as Johnnie took an ordinary hairpin from his pocket and started to pick the lock.

"I learnt a thing or two in New York." said Johnnie. "But I feel they're skills worth learning even if they're nots cool."

There was a small click and the door swung open.

"So - we'll get your trunk - you grab anything you need from your room and hand it out to Ron," whispered Johnnie.

"Watch out for the bottom stair - it creaks." Harry whispered back as the teenager disappeared onto the dark landing. "Are you sure you can carry that?"

"Definetes." said Johnnie.

Harry dashed around his room, collecting his things and passing them out of the window to Ron. Then he went to help Johnnie heave his trunk up the stairs. Harry heard Uncle Vernon cough.

At last, panting, they reached the landing, then carried the trunk through Harry's room to the open window. Johnnie climbed back into the car to pull with Ron, Fred, and Harry and George pushed from the bedroom side. Inch by inch, the trunk slid through the window.

Uncle Vernon coughed again.

"A bit more, Yank." panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car. "One good push -"

Harry and Johnnie threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out of the window into the back seat of the car.

"Okay, let's go," George whispered.

But as Harry climbed onto the windowsill there came a sudden loud screech from behind him, followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Vernon's voice.

"THAT RUDDY OWL!"

"I've forgotten Hedwig!"

Harry tore back across the room as the landing light clicked on - he snatched up Hedwig's cage, dashed to the window, and passed it out to Ron. He was scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door and it crashed open.

For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle.

Ron, Fred, and George seized Harry's arms and pulled as hard as they could.

"Petunia!" roared Uncle Vernon. "He's getting away! HE'S GETTING AWAY!"

"Let go of me!" Harry yelled.

"Oh no you don't!" Vernon yelled. "You and that bloody pigeon aren't going anywhere!"

Johnnie flew up, punched Vernon in the face and Harry's leg slid out of Uncle Vernon's grasp - Harry was in the car - he'd slammed the door shut.

"Put your foot down, Fred!" yelled Ron, and the car shot suddenly toward the moon.

Harry couldn't believe it - he was free. He rolled down the

window, the night air whipping his hair, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry's window. Joh

"See you next summer!" Harry yelled.

The Weasleys roared with laughter and Harry settled back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear. The Crosswells high fived each other and followed the Ford Angela as the owls flew freely in the air.


	4. Welcome To The Weasley House

After a couple of hours, a faint pinkish glow was visible along the horizon to the east.

Fred brought the car lower, and Harry saw a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.

"We're a little way outside the village," said George. "Ottery St. Catchpole."

Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees.

"Touchdown!" said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Harry looked out for the first time at Ron's house.

The tall bizarre house looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which, Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, The Burrow. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

"It's not much," said Ron.

"It's wonderful," said Harry happily, thinking of Privet Drive.

The wizards in a quickly put the car and brooms away in the garage, proceeding to make a beeline for the kitchens. Now getting a good look, Tess marveled in the random magic that was the Burrow. Everything was so colorful and peaceful. It had this air that made everyone feel at home, like everything bad that ever happened had vanished.

"Like I said it's not much." Ron said in a mouthful of bread. "But it's home."

"I dig this crib." said Tess in amazement.

Just then, thundering footsteps sounded in the house at a fast pace. Out of the nowhere, a short, plump, kind-faced woman with flaming red hair came and it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger. "WHERE-HAVE-YOU-BEEN?!" Her scary mother mode vanished as soon as she saw the guests. "Harry, Quintessa, Jonathan. How wonderful to see you dears!" Immediately her scary mother mode came back on. "Beds empty! No note! Car gone! You could have died! You could have been seen! You just wait until your father gets home, Bill and Charlie never caused this much trouble! Or even Percy!"

It seemed to go on for hours with Mrs. Weasley's shouting before she turned to Harry, Tess, and Johnnie.

"I'm very pleased to see you three, dears" she said. "Come in and have some breakfast. Especially you Harry, you could use some food down your stomach."

She turned and walked back into the house and Harry, after a nervous glance at Ron, who nodded encouragingly, followed her.

The clock on the wall opposite him had only one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edge were things like Time to Make tea, Time to feed the chickens, and You're Late. Books were stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like Charm Your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking, and One Minute Feasts - It's Magic! And unless Harry's ears were deceiving him, the old radio next to the sink had just announced that coming up was "Witching Hour, with the popular singing sorceress, Celestina Warbeck."

Mrs. Weasley was clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she muttered things like "don't know what you were thinking of," and "never would have believed it."

She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.

"It was cloudy, Mum!" said Fred.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"They were starving him, Mum!" said George.

"And you!" said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.

At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, redheaded figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen.

"Mommy have you seen my jumper?" She asked.

"Yes dear it was on the cat." Mrs. Weasley chirped. Ginny was about to leave when she saw Harry.

"Hello." He said politely. She gave a small squeal, and ran out again. "What did I do?"

"Ginny," said Ron in an undertone to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer. A bit annoying really."

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.

"So Ginny is of age?" Tess asked to break the silence.

"Yes." Mrs. Weasley said proudly. "Little Ginny is going to Hogwarts!"

"That's amazing!" Tess said. "I'll be happy to show her around."

"I've got to warn you though." Ron said. "Ginny can be...shy."

"Eh we'll work on it." said Tess. "But just one question. What are you gonna do when she discovers boys?"

The Weasley brothers looked at each other muscheviously before the twins answered in unison, "Well that's why we were born right?"

"Morning Weasleys!" A man shouted entering the house.

"Morning Arthur/Dad!" They all shouted as Percy joined them.

Mr. Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children's. He was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn.

"What a night," he mumbled, groping for the teapot."Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned ..." Mr. Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed.

"Raids?" Johnnie asked confused.

"It's gotta be a thing from the Muggle Artifacts office he works from." Tess said to him.

"Find anything, Dad?" said Fred eagerly.

"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle," yawned Mr. Weasley. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness ..."

"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" said George.

"Just Muggle-baiting," sighed Mr. Weasley. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it ... Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking - they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face ... But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe -" He stopped because he finally caught sight of Harry and the non Weasleys. "And who are you three?"

"Oh sorry sir." Johnnie said politely. "I'm Johnnie Crosswell. This is my cousin Tess, and her best friend Harry Potter."

Arthur sat up straight and his eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. "Good Lord. Are you really? And are you two really American?"

"Yes we are." Tess said proudly. "Shalom!"

"Well Ron has told you all about you fellows of course." said Arthur. "When did you get here anyway?"

"This morning." Mrs. Weasley said quietly. "Your sons flew that enchanted car of yours to Surrey and back last night."

"Did you really?" Mr. Weasley asked excited. "How did it go?" The boys were about to say something when his wife gave him a death glare. "I mean, that was very wrong indeed boys, very wrong indeed."

"I've never heard of a job of using Muggle Artifacts." said Tess.

"It's not a job position in your country?" George asked.

"No." said Johnnie. "Us Americans prefer to live what you might call, 'A wizard's life in a Muggle world.'"

"Fascinating indeed!" Arthur said in pure glee. "So that means you three must know all about Muggles. Do tell me, what exactly is the function of a rubber duck?"

"Well it's-"

He was cut off with the sound of an owl screeching.

"Is Hedwig back already?" Harry asked confused.

"No that'll be Errol with the post." Mrs. Weasley said. A brown scruffy owl flew towards the house but instead of going in the kitchens, it landed on the window. "Fetch that, will you Percy?"

"You really should get that owl checked out." Tess said.

"Does it matter?" asked Ron. "He's always doing that."

"Oh look it's our Hogwarts letters." Percy said passing out the envelopes to everyone. "They've sent out for Harry and Tess' as well."

"Dumbledore must know you two are here." said Arthur. "Doesn't miss a trick that man."

"Well this lot won't come cheap Mom." said George. "The spell books alone are very expensive."

"We'll manage." said Mrs. Weasley. "There's only one place we're gonna get all of this. Diagon Alley."


	5. How Floo Powder Works

Once they were finished with breakfast and gotten dressed, the Weasleys gathered at the fireplace, all draped in robes.

"I never understand the British need to wear robes to everything." Johnnie mumbled.

"I know right?" Tess asked.

"You Americans and your clothes." Ron mumbled walking by.

"Oh it gets worse." Tess said to her cousin. "In Hogwarts you have to wear a uniform, tie and all."

"No." Johnnie said, sounding scared.

"Alright." Mrs. Weasley spoke up getting everyone's attention. "Harry you go first."

"But Harry's never travelled by Floo Powder before Mum." Ron reminded her.

"Floo Powder?" Harry asked confused.

"It's a way of travelling." Tess explained. "I'll go first so he can see how it's done."

"Never?" said Mr. Weasley. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"

"I went on the Underground -"

"Really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "Were there escapators? How exactly -"

"Not now, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Floo Powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before -"

"Dad!" Ron said getting him out of his rambling. "Let Tess go so she can see how it's done."

Tess, tugging her black leather vest, stepped in the fireplace, and yelled loud and clear, "Diagon Alley!" She then became consumed in a pillar of green fire and the next thing she knew, she was in the Floo grate of Diagon Alley in an actual alley. After waiting so that the others could get out, she noticed Harry wasn't with them.

"Oh Harry where the hell are ya?"


	6. I Make a Withdrawl For the First Time

Tess walked around because her cousin was looking for Harry. Clutching the key in her hand, she approached Gringotts Bank. Over the summer, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sent her, via letter, the information for her own Gringotts Bank. Tess had a suspicion that right after she registered for Hogwarts, a bank was made but she still was concerned because financial problems were a problem for low class citizens in America. She was still thankful to not be in the Wall Street Crash.

Stepping inside the white pristine bank, she glanced around to see squatty goblins working and sorting money. From bind dealing experience, she knew that goblins weren't idiots.

"Excuse me." She said calmly in front of the head of the bank. "I would like to make a withdrawal."

"Identification?" The goblin asked, not looking from his papers.

"Quintessa Crosswell." She said, keeping stoic.

"Ah yes." said the goblin, smiling wickedly. "The British American. Wand please." Tess raised an eyebrow at this. "It's bank policy." Rolling her eyes, Tess placed her Liberty Tree wand on the desk. After being inspected, the goblin let her in after calling a goblin named Ragnok to show her.

Griphook held the door open for her. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in, and were off. At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages.

Tess tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering. Tess' eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but she kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late - - they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

At last, the cart stopped beside a small door in the passage wall. Tess got out and whispered, "That. Was. Awesome."

Ragnok unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Tess gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Ragnok's. "Your parents had this made when you were born." All Tess' - it was incredible. She had been sent to jail for crimes, trying to get money so they could eat. And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to her, buried deep under London. Ragnok helped Tess pile some of it into a bag as she made plans to try and get her family accsess. At the same time, she wondered, What was Harry doing?


	7. The Streets of Wizarding Britain

He fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the bridge of his glasses snap.

Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, he got gingerly to his feet, holding his broken glasses up to his eyes. He was -,cite alone, but where he was, he had no idea. All he could tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard's shop - but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list.

If Tess were there, she would have said, "This is dope." Harry silently chuckled as he reminded himself that the American was rubbing off him.

A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the dark, narrow street Harry could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley.

The sooner he got out of here, the better. Nose still stinging where it had hit the hearth, Harry made his way swiftly and silently toward the door, but before he'd got halfway toward it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass - and one of them was the very last person Harry wanted to meet when he was lost, covered in soot, and wearing broken glasses: Draco Malfoy.

Harry looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet to his left; he shot inside it and pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack to peer through. Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Malfoy stepped into the shop.

The man who followed could only be Draco's father. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, gray eyes. Mr. Malfoy crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and saying, "Touch nothing, Draco."

Malfoy, who had reached for the glass eye, said, "I thought you were going to buy me a present."

"I said I would buy you a racing broom," said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.

"What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?" said Malfoy, looking sulky and bad-tempered. "Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous ... famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead . . . ." Malfoy bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls. ". . . everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick -"

"You have told me this at least a dozen times already," said Mr. Malfoy, with a quelling look at his son. "And I would remind you that it is not - prudent - to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear - ah, Mr. Borgin."

A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face.

"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," said Mr. Borgin in a voice as oily as his hair. "Delighted - and young Master Malfoy, too - charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced -"

"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling," said Mr. Malfoy.

"Selling?" The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin's face.

"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids," said Mr. Malfoy, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I have a few - ah - items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call ..."

Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down the list.

"The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?"

Mr. Malfoy's lip curled. "I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act - no doubt that flea- bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it." Harry felt a hot surge of anger. "- and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear -"

"I understand, sir, of course," said Mr. Borgin. "Let me see. . ."

"Can I have that?" interrupted Draco, pointing at the withered hand on its cushion.

"Ah, the Hand of Glory!" said Mr. Borgin, abandoning Mr. Malfoy's list and scurrying over to Draco. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."

"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," said Mr. Malfoy coldly, and Mr. Borgin said quickly, "No offense, sir, no offense meant -"

"Though if his grades don't pick up," said Mr. Malfoy, more coldly still, "that may indeed be all he is fit for -like that American wench Draco so mentions." Harry felt the need to punch that man into Hell.

"It's not my fault," retorted Draco. "The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger -"

"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam," snapped Mr. Malfoy.

"Ha!" said Harry under his breath, pleased to see Draco looking both abashed and angry.

"It's the same all over the world." said Mr. Borgin, in his oily voice. "Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere -"

"Not with me," said Mr. Malfoy, his long nostrils flaring.

"No, sir, nor with me, sir," said Mr. Borgin, with a deep bow.

"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list," said Mr. Malfoy shortly. "I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today -"

They started to haggle. Harry watched nervously as Draco drew nearer and nearer to his hiding place, examining the objects for sale. Draco paused to examine a long coil of hangman's rope and to read, smirking, the card propped on a magnificent necklace of opals, Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed - Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date. Draco thought of getting that necklace in case he needed to give it to a girl but he decided not. Draco turned away and saw the cabinet right in front of him. He walked forward - he stretched out his hand for the handle…

"Done," said Mr. Malfoy at the counter. "Come, Draco -"

Harry wiped his forehead on his sleeve as Draco turned away but he didn't let out a breath. Tess and Ron taught him not to make any sound whatsoever when you're in hiding. He suspected that the Weasley Twins were rubbing off him.

"Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods."

The moment the door had closed, Mr. Borgin dropped his oily manner.

"Good day yourself, Mister Malfoy, and if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your manor ...

Muttering darkly, Mr. Borgin disappeared into a back room. Harry waited for a minute in case he came back, then, quietly as he could, slipped out of the cabinet, past the glass cases, and out of the shop door.

Clutching his broken glasses to his face, Harry stared around. He had emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the Dark Arts. The one he'd just left, Borgin and Burkes, looked like the largest, but opposite was a nasty window display of shrunken heads and, two doors down, a large cage was alive with gigantic black spiders. Two shabby-looking wizards were watching him from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other. Feeling jumpy, Harry set off, trying to hold his glasses on straight and hoping against hope he'd be able to find a way out of here or something that did not have Dark Arts.

An old wooden street sign hanging over a shop selling poisonous candles told him he was in Knockturn Alley. This didn't help, as Harry had never heard of such a place. He supposed he hadn't spoken clearly enough through his mouthful of ashes. back in the Weasleys' fire. Trying to stay calm, he wondered what to do.

"Not lost are you, my dear?" said a voice in his ear, making him jump.

An aged witch stood in front of him, holding a tray of what looked horribly like whole human fingernails. She leered at him, showing mossy teeth. Harry backed away.

"I'm fine, thanks," he said. "I'm just -"

"Yo Harry Bro!" An American voice sounded.

"HARRY! What d'yeh think yer doin' down there?"

Harry's heart leapt. So did the witch; a load of fingernails cascaded down over her feet and she cursed as the massive form of Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, came striding toward them, beetle-black eyes flashing over his great bristling beard. Next to him, was a teenager with torn up jeans, black sneakers and a blue hoodie over a green t shirt.

"Hagrid! Johnnie!" Harry croaked in relief. "I was lost - Floo powder -"

Johnnie seized Harry by the scruff of the neck and pulled him away from the witch, knocking the tray right out of her hands. He gave her a death glare that meant business. Her shrieks followed them all the way along the twisting alleyway out into bright sunlight. Harry saw a familiar, snow-white marble building in the distance - Gringotts Bank. Hagrid had steered them right into Diagon Alley.

"Yer a mess!" said Hagrid gruffly, brushing soot off Harry so forcefully he nearly knocked him into a barrel of dragon dung outside an apothecary. "Skulkin' around Knockturn Alley, I dunno dodgy place, Harry - don' want no one ter see yeh down there -"

"Wait." Johnnie said stopping them. "First things first." He whipped out his wand and waved it in Harry's face. "Oculus Repairo."

Instantly the glasses fixed themselves. "I definently need to remember that one." said Harry.

"Still what were you thinking you bonehead?" Johnnie asked, leading them on. "You didn't realize that Knockturn Alley is like the British version of Harlem? Do you even know what goes on in Harlem?  _Cosas Malas_. Bad things."

"I realized that," said Harry, ducking as Hagrid made to brush him off again. "I told you, I was lost - what were you two doing down there, anyway?"

"Me, I was trying to find your lost ass." Johnnie snapped.

"I was lookin' fer a Flesh-Eatin' Slug Repellent," growled Hagrid. "They're ruinin' the school cabbages. Yer not on yer own?"

"Harry! Harry! Over here!"

Harry looked up and saw Hermione Granger standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. She ran down to meet them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her.

"What happened to your glasses? Hello, Hagrid - Oh, it's wonderful to see you three again - even you Johnnie!" Hermione hugged him.

"Where is everyone?" asked Harry.

"Flourish and Blotts." said Johnnie. "I was out looking for you when everyone else arrived.

"Yeh won't have long ter wait," Hagrid said with a grin. "I'll be off."

"Bye Hagrid!" They all said. "Come on!" Hermione exclaimed. "Everyone's been so worried."


	8. Of Narcissists and Comments

The young wizards entered the cramped bookstore that was Flourish and Blotts. They had passed a large sign that said,

Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing books this afternoon!

12:30-4:00pm.

The amount of people was equal to a small army, and most of them were women. Fortunately, it wasn't that hard to spot the Weasley clan.

"Oh Harry!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, dusting him off. "Thank goodness, we had hoped you had only gone one grate too far."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Gilderoy Lockart." A wizard said out loud.

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

"Mum fancies him." Ron whispered, earning a nudge from his mother.

"Fancy?" Johnnie asked.

"Has a fangirl moment whenever she sees him." Tess translated.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the Daily Prophet -"

"Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron and then he saw Harry. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Harry Potter?"

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Harry's face burned as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys.

"Nice big smile, Harry," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, you and I are worth the front page." When he finally let go of Harry's hand, Harry could hardly feel his fingers. He tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clasped him tightly to his side.

Tess and Johnnie looked like they had seen a slug. To them, they had seen worse actors from Broadway, but Lockhart was the worst of them all.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography -which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge-" The crowd applauded again. "He had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

"He's not serious are you?" Tess whispered.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Hermione asked all giddy. "He's so handsome and brave.. And ahhhhh."

"Hermione, tell me **both** of you are not serious." Tess whispered, obviously cringing in horror.

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron.

"You have these," Harry mumbled to her, tipping the books into the cauldron. "I'll buy my own books."

Ginny turned almost as red as her hair. "Uh.. , thanks."

Harry smiled at the young witch and left her to join his friends and Johnnie.

"So what do you think of him?" Ron asked him. "He's internationally famous even in America."

"Well.." Harry said. "Seeing that he managed to embarrass me and rub in my face about just how famous we both are, I really don't know what to say."

"Let me help you out then bro." Johnnie said before bringing up memories of his politics classes. "What Lockhart is, it's all just smoke and mirrors. It's called 'Coverspreading.'"

"Cover what?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison.

"Coverspreading." said Johnnie. "Using his cheesy tabloid fame, it's just to distract you from the fact that he's not a really powerful wizard. And his speech giving skills were just so-so. Now I worry about your education."

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Harry or Tess had no trouble recognizing. He straightened up and found himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer. "Famous Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"And you apparently can't last 24 hours without going to the hair salon." Tess snapped back, making the others go, "ooooh."

"I see you've brought your plus one Potter." Malfoy sneered. "Or better yet, your bodyguard."

Tess scowled, her purple eyes brightening in anger.

"Leave them alone, they didn't want all that!" said Ginny. She was glaring at Malfoy.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" drawled Malfoy. Ginny went scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart's books.

"Bet you're surprised to see us here, eh?" Ron quipped.

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."

A silver snake head came on top of Draco's shoulder and he stepped aside. "Now now, Draco, play nicely." It was Mr. Malfoy. "Mr. Potter. Lucius Malfoy. We meet at last. Forgive me." He pulled Harry and and used the cane to lift his bangs, showing his scar to him. "Your scar is legendary, as of course as the wizard who gave it to you."

" **Voldemort** killed my parents." Harry snarled. "He was nothing more than a murderer."

Mr. Malfoy seemed somewhat impressed. "You must be very brave to mention his name. Or very foolish."

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself." piped up Hermione as if she was quoting something from a book, which she probably was.

Mr. Malfoy sneaked his head towards the bushy brown brunette. "And you must be Miss Granger. Yes Draco has told me all about you and your parents." He noticed Hermione's parents, talking with Mr. Weasley. "Muggles are they?" He focused on the entire group. "Let me see. Red hair, vacant expressions." He reached for Ginny's battered book to Transfiguration. "Tatty, secondhand book, you must be the Weasleys."

"Mr. Malfoy." said Johnnie quietly and dangerously, stepping forward, arms crossed and brown eyes narrowed. "I don't know you very well, but I know that you have a very high place in this political square. I'm from a part of the world called New York City. Know where that is? It's on the wrong side of the Quidditch Field. See, these are my friends here, so if you're going to make some stupid speech on a good family simply because of their financial status, don't say anything at all or say what you have to say **to my face**." He wasn't going to punch anyone, but the way he confronted Mr. Malfoy was like a lion preparing to attack it's prey, but at the same time, warning him.

Mr. Malfoy seemed to lose his posture for a tiny nanosecond before regaining it. "And just who might you be, talking to a wizarding aristocrat like myself like that?"

"I'm Jonathan Crosswell." He said, then pulling out Tess. "This is my cousin, Tess."

"Ah yes." said Mr. Malfoy. "The American witch. Yes, I see the family resemblance, aside from the sharp tongue and defiance for the rules. You know, Quintessa, out of all the people Draco has mentioned, he's talked about you most. I think that you Americans call your wit, 'Sass.' Although, personally, you would have done well in my house."

"Children!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling past Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well - Weasley Senior."

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those extra raids ... I hope they're paying you overtime?" He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. "Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny. "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "Associating with Muggles, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower."

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please - please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all

"Break it up, there, gents, break it up -"

Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you -" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.

"Well that went well." Tess muttered. "Let's get the rest of our school stuff. Oh and Johnnie, nice use of political talk. You planning to become a lawyer or something?"

Johnnie nervously laughed at his cousin and looked away, his face reading that he was about to pee his pants.

'How am I gonna tell her?' He thought.


	9. Johnnie Almost Mans Up

The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for Harry's liking. He was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, but his month at the Burrow had been the happiest of his life. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Ron when he thought of the Dursleys and the sort of welcome he could expect next time he turned up on Privet Drive.

Tess and Harry spent a lot of time with their friends practicing for Quidditch. Tess had spent all summer preparing in the sport, because she was determined to make the team. And Johnnie did not go easy on her.

On their last evening, Mrs. Weasley conjured up a sumptuous dinner that included all of Harry's favorite things, ending with a mouthwatering treacle pudding. Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filed the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed.

"Tess?" Johnnie asked when she was putting her mug away. "Can I talk to you?" The duo sat down and Johnnie began his explanation. "Tess, all my life I've wanted to do more, to be more. And now I've got the chance. I may have passed my OWL's but I need to go to...law school. I know, we can't afford it. But that's why I'm gonna spend the whole summer vacation next summer fulfilling an internship at MACUSA, it's the only way I'm gonna ensure a scholarship to Lincoln Academy in Washington DC. I know, it's selfish of me, abandoning you guys, especially since we're a close family but if I want to go to the school of my dreams, I can't be with the family of anyone's dreams. And I know-"

"No." said Tess. "You don't. I have never….been more proud of you."

"You're not pissed at me?" Johnnie asked.

"Johnnie." She said smiling. "I'm not that girl. Sure, I like breaking and entering, messing with people, and sure, I like beating up people. I own that. But I'm not a spoilt brat like Scarlett Zimmerman. I've known you've wanted to be a lawyer since I've been in a diaper. I'm not in love with the idea that you're practically leaving me and Sara, but if this is what you want to do, there's nothing I can do about it."

"Thank you." He said, giving his cousin a good old bear hug. Johnnie was the closest thing Tess had to a brother and sometimes he was like a father. "Thank God I don't have to explain this in a letter."

Tess stiffened. "A letter? Instead of being a man, you were gonna explain this in a **letter**?"

"Oh crap." Johnnie said before Mrs. Weasley stormed in.

"Children why are we still up?" She asked. "Don't answer that, we have to go tomorrow!"

Johnnie chuckled nervously. "When I get to Hogwarts, you are dead!"

"You won't be able to kill me there." He reminded her.

"Oh not physically." She said dangerously. "But I can break more of you rather than your bones. Goodnight." She hummed, skipping to the stairs.

Johnnie made a beeline for his room muttering to himself, "Now to survive the wrath of my cousin."


	10. We Hatch The Best (And Possibly Worst) Way To Get To School

It took a long while to get started next morning. They were up at dawn, but somehow they still seemed to have a great deal to do.

Mrs. Weasley dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills; people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands; and Mr. Weasley nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ginny's trunk to the car.

Johnnie had already left, bidding everyone goodbye but Tess by the crack of dawn was already packed.

"See this is why you should pack the night before." Tess said. "Wait, am I turning into Hermione?"

Harry couldn't see how eight people, six large trunks, two owls, and a rat were going to fit into one small Ford Anglia. He had reckoned, of course, without the special features that Mr. Weasley had added.

"Not a word to Molly," he whispered to Harry as he opened the. trunk and showed him how it had been magically expanded so that the luggage fitted easily.

"A word about what?" Tess asked winking at him.

"You are one conspicuous little girl." Harry said seething at her charisma.

"I know." said Tess. "It keeps me awake at night."

When at last they were all in the car, Mrs. Weasley glanced into the back seat, where Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Percy were all sitting comfortably side by side, and said, "Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" She and Ginny got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench. "I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"

Mr. Weasley started up the engine and they trundled out of the yard, Harry turning back for a last look at the house. He barely had time to wonder when he'd see it again when they were back George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that, they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Fred could run in for his broomstick. They had almost reached the highway when Ginny shrieked that she'd left her diary. By the time she had clambered back into the car, they were running very late, and tempers were running high.

Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch and then at his wife.

"Molly, dear -"

"No, Arthur -"

"No one would see - this little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed - that'd get us up in the air - then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser -"

"I said no, Arthur, not in broad daylight -"

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for their trunks and they all hurried into the station.

Harry had caught the Hogwarts Express the previous year. The tricky part was getting onto platform nine and three-quarters, which wasn't visible to the Muggle eye. What you had to do was walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn't hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles noticed you vanishing.

"Percy first," said Mrs. Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier.

Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr. Weasley went next; Fred and George followed.

"I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us," Mrs. Weasley told Harry and Ron, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they were gone.

"Let's go together, we've only got a minute," Ron said to Harry and Tess.

Harry made sure that Hedwig's cage was safely wedged on top of his trunk and wheeled his trolley around to face the barrier. He felt perfectly confident; this wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. The three of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and

CRASH.

All three trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, Harry was knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly; Tess rammed and fell on her side, her suitcase landing on Crucible's cage but it didn't break. But Ron landed on her. People all around them stared and a guard nearby yelled, "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"

"Lost control of the trolley," Harry gasped, clutching his ribs as he got up. Ron reached to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.

"Ron." Tess grumbled. "Please get your ass off of my chest."

"Sorry." He said helping her get up.

"Why can't we get through?" Harry hissed to Ron.

"I dunno -" Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching them. "The gateway sealed itself for some reason."

"Gateways like this?" Tess asked. "They **don't** seal themselves. Which means it's been tampered with somehow."

"We're going to miss the train," Ron whispered. "I don't understand how the gateways been tampered with. -"

Harry looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ten seconds ... nine seconds …

He wheeled his trolley forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all his might. The metal remained solid.

Three seconds . . . two seconds ... one second …

"The train leaves exactly at 11 o clock." Harry confirmed. "We've missed it."

"What about Mum and Dad?" Ron asked.

"They'll probably have apparated but that's not the point." said Tess. "We're sealed shut away from our ticket to school. Anyone got any genius ideas."

"Oh yeah." said Harry sarcastically. "I've got a genius idea. Let's all go wait by the bloody car and see what happens next. Maybe someone will buy us chocolate and give us money."

"Gee thanks mate." Ron said bitterly before widening his eyes in wonder. "Harry that's a brilliant plan!"

"Waiting for chocolate and money?" Harry asked.

"No you idiot." Tess said. "The car. We can use it to get ourselves to Hogwarts!"

"But wouldn't we get caught for using magic?" Harry asked.

"Well technically it's Dad's." said Ron. "And besides, magic isn't supposed to be used by Muggles unless it's a case of emergency. Something about the Resctriction thingy but anyway, we've got no choice. We've got to use the car."

"I call shotgun!" Tess exclaimed, getting her stuff along with the rest of the boys.


	11. Flying Straight into School

And they marched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station and back onto the side road where the old Ford Anglia was parked.

Ron unlocked the cavernous trunk with a series of taps from his wand. They heaved their luggage back in, put Hedwig on the back seat, and got into the front.

"Check that no one's watching," said Ron, starting the ignition with another tap of his wand. Harry stuck his head out of the window: Traffic was rumbling along the main road ahead, but their street was empty.

"Okay," he said.

"We're clear." said Tess who let Harry get the front seat.

Ron pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around them vanished - and so did they. Harry could feel the seat vibrating beneath him, hear the engine, feel his hands on his knees and his glasses on his nose, but for all he could see, he had become a pair of eyeballs, floating a few feet above the ground in a dingy street full of parked cars.

"Let's go," said Ron's voice from his right.

And the ground and the dirty buildings on either side fell away, dropping out of sight as the car rose; in seconds, the whole of London lay, smoky and glittering, below them.

Then there was a popping noise and the car, Harry, and Ron reappeared.

"Uh-oh," said Ron, jabbing at the Invisibility Booster. "It's faulty -"

Both of them pummeled it. The car vanished. Then it flickered back again.

"Hold on!" Ron yelled, and he slammed his foot on the accelerator.

They shot straight into the low, woolly clouds and everything turned dull and foggy.

"Now what?" said Harry, blinking at the solid mass of cloud pressing in on them from all sides.

"We need to see the train to know what direction to go in," said Ron.

"Dip back down again - quickly -"

They dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted around in their seats, squinting at the ground, no train in sight.

"We can't be far behind." said Tess.

Suddenly, the train's whistling came"Wait do you hear that?" asked Harry.

"We must be getting close." Ron said with hope.

But Tess however had an anchor of a terrible feeling. "Wait a minute." The atmosphere in the car became deathly silent only broken by the train's whistling. Followed by a variation of Tess' catchphrase, "OH SHIT!"

The Hogwarts Express was right behind them like a scarlet bull waiting to attack.

Everyone screamed and they shot up trying to get to the sky but the lost control of the car for some bit and Harry accidentally opened the car door, and he was dangling, the train about 150 feet below.

"HARRY!" Tess screamed. There was nothing she could do since she was crammed in the back seat with the owls.

"Hold on!" Ron yelled. "Take my hand!" Harry tried to grab on but slipped off.

"Harry hold onto him!" Tess yelled.

"I'm trying!" He groaned. "Your hand's all sweaty, Ron."

Slipping off a few times, Ron finally grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him back in the car. The three wizards all looked at each other, pale as the clouds above.

"I think we've found the train." Harry said.

"Yeah." Ron agreed, shaking in unison with Tess who said, "You think?"

The car flew, following the train as the day progressed into nighttime. Flying over the giant lake, the car made it's way in full view of the familiar landmark. Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the lake, stood the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts castle. It was magnificent in the first night they went there, and it was breathtaking then.

"Welcome home dudes." Tess said to the smiling Harry and Ron. But the car had begun to shudder violently and was losing speed. It spiraled past the Great Hall and into the fields.

"Up! UP!" Harry yelled.

"It's not working!" Ron said cajolingly, stepping on the brakes.

"GIANT TREE, DEAD AHEAD!" Tess bellowed, lunging for the steering wheel, but too late.

"Stop! Stop! STOP!" Ron yelled tapping his wand on the wheel.

CRUNCH.

With an earsplitting bang of metal on wood, they hit the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the crumpled hood; Hedwig was shrieking in terror; a golfball-size lump was throbbing on Harry's head where he had hit the windshield; and to his right, Tess, was holding onto the raven and snow feathered owls andRon let out a low, despairing groan.

"Are you okay?" Harry said urgently.

"We're not dead so that's a start." snapped Tess.

"My wand," said Ron, in a shaky voice. "Look at my wand -" It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a few splinters.

"Be thankful it ain't your neck." Tess snarled.

Harry opened his mouth to say he was sure they'd be able to mend it up at the school, but he never even got started. At that very moment, something hit his side of the car with the force of a

charging bull, sending him lurching sideways into Ron, just as an equally heavy blow hit the roof.

"What's happening?" Ron squeaked out.

"I don't know/Don't ask me." Harry and Tess said unison, equally as scared, if not, Tess was more scared.

Ron gasped, staring through the windshield, and Harry looked around just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree they had hit was attacking them. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs were pummeling every inch of the car it could reach.

Tess barely made it as she pulled her head down to avoid her getting impaled by a tree branch that had shot through the back door.

"Aaargh!" said Ron as another twisted limb punched a large dent into his door; the windshield was now trembling under a hail of blows from knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram was pounding furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving.

Finally, the tree let the car go down and it pulled back, as if to give the final strike.

"Don't just sit there!" Tess yelled. "Go! Fast!" And the car shot backward; the tree was still trying to hit them; they could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at them as they sped out of reach.

"That," panted Ron, "was close. Well done, car -"

The car, however, had reached the end of its tether. With two sharp clunks, the doors flew open and Harry felt his seat tip sideways: Next thing he knew he was sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds told him that the car was ejecting their luggage from the trunk; Hedwig's cage flew through the air and burst open; she rose out of it with an angry screech and sped off toward the castle, the same with Crucible, though she pecked hard on Ron before flying off without a backward look. Then, dented, scratched, and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

"Come back!" Ron yelled after it, brandishing his broken wand. The three wizards ran after it but no luck prevailed as they saw the car dissapear into the one place Harry would try to avoid going in; The Dark Forest.

"Dad's gonna kill me." Ron said miserably.

Tess clamped his shoulder. "He ain't the only one bro. He ain't the only one."

"Doesn't matter if we're dead as mosquitos." Harry said, getting their attention. "We are **not** doing that again."

"Can you believe our luck?" said Ron miserably, bending down to pick up Scabbers. "Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back."

He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient tree, which was still flailing its branches threateningly.

"Come on," said Harry wearily, "we'd better get up to the school ..."

It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival they had pictured. Stiff, cold, and bruised, they seized the ends of their trunks and began dragging them up the grassy slope, toward the great oak front doors.

"I think the feast's already started," said Ron, dropping his trunk at the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a brightly lit window. "Hey - Harry - come and look - it's the Sorting!"

"Guys we don't have time to do the Sorting." said Tess. "We just got here to Hogwarts by illegal measures, so we can't get distracted by personal endeavors."

"Just a peek please?" Ron begged.

"Fine, just one peek." She said.

Harry hurried over and, together, Tess, he and Ron peered in at the Great Hall.

Innumerable candles were hovering in midair over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars.

Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Harry saw a long line of scared-looking first years fiIing into the Hall. Ginny was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.

Every year, this aged old hat, patched, frayed, and dirty, sorted new students into the four Hogwarts houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin). Harry well remembered putting it on, exactly one year ago, and waiting, petrified, for its decision as it muttered aloud in his ear. For a few horrible seconds he had feared that the hat was going to put him in Slytherin, the house that had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other -but he had ended up in Gryffindor, along with Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys. Tess was the first and only witch in centuries to display friendship for the Slytherins, earning her the nickname, "The Slytherin Sympathizer." This earned her enemies like Pansy Parkinson and a possible friend, Draco Malfoy. She did manage to make some friends in the Slytherin House, though not a lot to be accounted for. Last term, Hermione, Tess, Harry and Ron had helped Gryffindor win the House Championship, beating Slytherin for the first time in seven years.

A very small, mousy-haired boy had been called forward to place the hat on his head. Harry's eyes wandered past him to where Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, Harry saw Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.

"Hang on. . . " Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table ... Where's Snape?"

Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own house (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions. Tess had mouthed off to him on her very first day, which was a mistake, because Snape made her his enemy ever since. And Tess had no problem standing up to him.

"Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully.

"Maybe he's left," said Tess "because he missed out on the Defense Against Dark Arts job again!"

"Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically.

"Yeah." said Tess. "I mean, everyone hates his guts -"

"Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you three didn't arrive on the school train."

Fear trickling down their spines, the three wizards spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze, stood Severus Snape. He was a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose, and greasy, shoulder-length black hair, and at this moment, he was smiling, and not in a way that shared fun times.

There was only one thing Tess could say whenever she knew she had stepped in it.

"Oh Crap."


	12. Avoiding the Death Penalty

"Follow me," said Snape.

Not daring even to look at each other, Harry, Tess, and Ron followed Snape up the steps into the vast, echoing entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the Great Hall, but Snape led them away from the warmth and light, down a narrow stone staircase that led into the dungeons.

"In!" he said, opening a door halfway down the cold passageway and pointing.

They entered Snape's office, shivering. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass) ars, in which floated all manner of revolting things Harry didn't really want to know the name of at the moment. The fireplace was dark and empty. Snape closed the door and turned to look at them.

"So," he said softly, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter, the criminal Quintessa, and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, children?"

"No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it -"

"Silence!" said Snape coldly.

"What have you done with the car?" Ron gulped. This wasn't the first time Snape had given Harry the impression of being able to read minds. But a moment later, he understood, as Snape unrolled today's issue of the Evening Prophet.

"You were seen," he hissed, showing them the headline: FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He began to read aloud: "Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower ... at noon in Norfolk, Mrs. Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing ... Mr. Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police ... Six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?" he said, looking up at Ron and smiling still more nastily. "Dear, dear ... his own son. . . " Harry felt as though he'd just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree's larger branches. "And you, little Quintessa. How dissapointed Morgan would be."

"You keep my ma's name out of your mouth." Tess growled. Snape looked at her, coal black eyes reaching into her own purple ones and he gave her the impression that he was reading her mind. His face turned to disappointment as apparently he didn't find what he was looking for.

If anyone found out Mr. Weasley had bewitched the car ... he hadn't thought of that ... "I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow," Snape went on.

"That tree did more damage to us than we -" Ron blurted out.

"Silence!" snapped Snape again. "Most unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here."

Tess, Harry, and Ron stared at each other, white-faced. Harry didn't feel hungry any more. He now felt extremely sick. He tried not to look at a large, slimy something suspended in green liquid on a shelf behind Snape's desk. If Snape had gone to fetch Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House, they were hardly any better off. She might be fairer than Snape, but she was still extremely strict. Tess felt like she was gonna be sick. She had been caught a few times breaking and entering but she still felt like she let her mom down.

Ten minutes later, Snape returned, and sure enough it was Professor McGonagall who accompanied him. Harry had seen Professor McGonagall angry on several occasions, but either he had forgotten just how thin her mouth could go, or he had never seen her this angry before. She raised her wand the moment she entered; Harry, Tess, and Ron both flinched, but she merely pointed it at the empty fireplace, where flames suddenly erupted.

"Sit," she said, and they all backed into chairs by the fire.

"Explain," she said, her glasses glinting ominously.

Ron launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the station refusing to let them through.

"-so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on the train."

"Why didn't you send us a letter by owl? I believe you two have owls?" Professor McGonagall said coldly to Harry and Tess.

Harry gaped at her. Now she said it, that seemed the obvious thing to have done. Tess started mentally berating herself for being an idiot.

"I - I didn't think -"

"That," said Professor McGonagall, "is obvious."

There was a knock on the office door and Snape, now looking happier than ever, opened it. There stood the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.

Harry's whole body went numb. Dumbledore was looking unusually grave. He stared down his very crooked nose at them, and Harry suddenly found himself wishing he and Ron were still being beaten up by the Whomping Willow. Tess wished that she was in a boxing ring in Brooklyn.

There was a long silence. Then Dumbledore said, "Please explain why you did this."

It would have been better if he had shouted. Harry hated the disappointment in his voice. For some reason, he was unable to look Dumbledore in the eyes, and spoke instead to his knees. He told Dumbledore everything except that Mr. Weasley owned the bewitched car, making it sound as though he and Ron had happened to find a flying car parked outside the station. He knew Dumbledore would see through this at once, but Dumbledore asked no questions about the car. When Harry had finished, he merely continued to peer at them through his spectacles. Tess stayed quiet the whole time, knowing that her mouth and tongue would get them deeper in it.

"We'll go and get our stuff," said Ron in a hopeless sort of voice.

"What are you talking about, Weasley?" barked Professor McGonagall.

"You're gonna chuck us out aren't ya?" asked Tess, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Harry looked quickly at Dumbledore.

"Not today, Miss. Crosswell," said Dumbledore. "But I must impress upon the three of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to all your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

Snape looked as though Christmas had been canceled. He cleared his throat and said, "Professor Dumbledore, these imbeciles have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree - surely acts of this nature -"

"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys' punishments, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility." He turned to Professor McGonagall. "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample -" Snape shot a look of pure venom at Harry and Ron, and mostly Tess as he allowed himself to be swept out of his office, leaving them alone with Professor McGonagall, who was still eyeing them like a wrathful eagle.

"You'd better get along to the hospital wing, Crosswell, you're bleeding."

"It's just a scratch." said Tess, hastily wiping the cut over her eye with his sleeve.

"Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted -" Ron said.

"The Sorting Ceremony is over," said Professor McGonagall. "Your sister is also in Gryffindor." "Oh, good," said Ron.

"And speaking of Gryffindor -" Professor McGonagall said sharply, but Harry cut in: "Professor, when we took the car, term hadn't started, so - so Gryffindor shouldn't really have points taken from it - should it?" he finished, watching her anxiously.

Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look, but he was sure she had almost smiled. Her mouth looked less thin, anyway. "I will not take any points from Gryffindor," she said, and Harry's heart lightened considerably. "But you will both get a detention." It was better than Harry had expected. As for Dumbledore's writing to the Dursleys, that was nothing. Harry knew perfectly well they'd just be disappointed that the Whomping Willow hadn't squashed him flat.

As for Tess, she knew that she was gonna get it when she got home, but she said, "Detention? We can live with that."

Professor McGonagall raised her wand again and pointed it at Snape's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets, and a jug of-iced pumpkin juice appeared with a pop. "You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory," she said. "I must also return to the feast."

When the door had closed behind her, Ron let out a long, low whistle.

"I thought we'd had it," he said, grabbing a sandwich.

"So did I," said Harry, taking one, too.

"Ditto." Tess said in a mouthful.

"Can you believe our luck, though?" said Ron thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. "Fred and George must've flown that car five or six times and no Muggle ever saw them." He swallowed and took another huge bite. "Why couldn't we get through the barrier?"

Harry shrugged. "We'll have to watch our step from now on, though," he said, taking a grateful swig of pumpkin juice. "Wish we could've gone up to the feast ..."

"She didn't want us showing off," said Ron sagely. "Doesn't want people to think it's clever, arriving by flying car."

"Ok guys." said Tess. "Let's recap. Why did someone obviously tamper with the barrier?"

"To be honest Tess." said Harry, taking a sip from his drink. "It goes like this: So first a house elf shows up in my bedroom and gets me in so much trouble that the Dursley's try to keep me from going to Hogwarts, we can't get through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, and not to mention we almost get killed by a tree and on the same night we almost get expelled. Clearly someone doesn't want me here this year."

When they had eaten as many sandwiches as they could (the plate kept refilling itself) they rose and left the office, treading the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle was quiet; it seemed that the feast was over. They walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armor, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last they reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Er -" said Harry.

"Did not think of this one." Tess muttered.

They didn't know the new year's password, not having met a Gryffindor prefect yet, but help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Hermione dashing toward them.

"There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors - someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car."

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry assured her.

"You're not telling me you did fly here?" said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.

"Skip the lecture," said Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new password."

"Yeah." said Tess. "Not to offend you, but we really need to crash. And in bed not in the tree this time."

"It's `wattlebird,"' said Hermione impatiently, "but that's not the point - "

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Harry, Tess, and Ron inside, leaving Hermione to scramble in after them."

"Brilliant!" yelled Lee Jordan. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years -"

"Good for you," said a fifth year Harry had never spoken to; someone was patting him on the back as though he'd just won a marathon; Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, "Why couldn't we've come in the car, eh?"

"Oh I don't know." Tess quipped. "Maybe because we didn't invite you."

Everyone let out a loud "OOOOHHH!"

"It's awesome to have you back Tess!" A fourth year shouted.

Ron was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Harry could see one person who didn't look happy at all. Percy was visible over the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be trying to get near enough to start telling them off. Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and nodded in Percy's direction. Ron got the point at once. Tess just scrambled upstairs with Hermione helping to push back the crowds of apparent fans.

"Thanks Mione." She said.

"My pleasure." said Hermione.

"'Night," Harry called back to Hermione and Tess.

The girls managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having their backs slapped, and gained the peace of the staircase. They hurried up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of their old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying SECOND YEARS. They entered the familiar, circular room, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high, narrow windows. Their trunks had been brought up for them and stood at the ends of their beds.

Tess grinned guiltily at Hermione.

"I know I shouldn't've enjoyed that or anything, but ='

The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year Gryffindor girls, Lavander Brown, Parvati Patil, and Winona Ryder.

"How awful it must have been!" exclaimed Lavender. "To have that hair messed up more than it already is!"

"It must have been some adventure." said Parvati.

"Amazing," said Winona, awestruck. And the girls kept launching questions at the same time before Hermione whistled, quieting them.

"One at a time!" Tess said loudly.

"What was it like?" Winona asked. "Going up against a Whomping Willow?"

"Did you get any injuries?" Parvati asked.

"Are any of the boys afraid of heights?" Lavender asked with gleam in her eyes.

Tess kept a straight face and answered stoicly, "Uh, terrifying, no, and I didn't ask." Tess, already feeling like she was going to break down in pieces, walked to her bed and fell down, face landing on the pillow. "I'm going to sleep now. Which means NO ONE, is allowed to bother me."

Lavender tried to say something about pajamas but Hermione pushed her back a little, shaking her head. "At least take a shower in the morning." She said.

Tess had the remaining strength to lift her arm and give her a thumbs up


	13. Of Screaming Plant Babies and Letters

The next day, started out brightly. The fire of the flying car fiasco had already gone out, but people were still whispering it behind their backs and some of the Slytherin first years had took to admiring Tess. Though their detentions still hung in place.

The Quartet's first class was Herbology with the ever kind and yet plump, Professer Sprout, a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails would have made Harry's Aunt Petunia faint. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels . . ."

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before - greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Tess caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella- sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He was about to follow Ron and Hermione inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.

"Harry! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.

"Harry," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry." Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing. "When I heard -well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself." Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He was about to say so when Lockhart went on, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, Harry." It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant teeth even when he wasn't talking "Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I?" said Lockhart. "Gave you the bug. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."

"Oh, no, Professor, see -"

"Harry, Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping his shoulder. "I understand. Natural to want a bit more once you've had that first taste - and I blame myself for giving you that, be cause it was bound to go to your head - but see here, young man, you can't start flying cars to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, alright? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! 'It's all right for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!' But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, Id say I was even more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you, haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead. "I know, I know - it's not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming-Smile Award five times in a row, as I have - but it's a start, Harry, it's a start." He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off. Harry stood stunned for a few seconds, then, remembering he was supposed to be in the greenhouse, he opened the door and slid inside. Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored ear muffs were lying on the bench.

"What in the Rowling was that all about?" asked Tess. Harry shrugged in response.

When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione, she said, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Man drake?" To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Instead of Hermione, Tess' hand narrowly missed Harry's glasses as it shot up.

"The cry of the Mandrake kills anyone who hears it," she said promptly.

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young." Hermione and Tess high fived.

"I didn't know you read." Ron whispered to the American.

"Hermione made me." She said. "All summer."

Sprout pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn't have the slightest idea what Tess meant by the "cry" of the Mandrake.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on."

Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear.

Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.

Tess had seen horror movies, but to her, **that** was creepy.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

"Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it really wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth; Harry spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.

Malfoy was stupid enough to poke it, but he ended up gettting his finger bit by it and had a hard time getting it out.

By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration.

The rest of the day until lunch went by easy. The hall was just as chatty as ever and filled with the sound of students. But to Harry and Tess, they heard to sound of Ron putting Spellotape on his wand. Despite it's name, Spellotape was just that, tape.

"Say it." said Ron miserably. "I'm doomed."

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Tess beat him to it. "Oh no. You my friend are not doomed. You're burning on the stake."

"Hi!" A cheeful voice spoke up and a flash caught their eye. The boy taking the picture was a very small, mousy-haired boy they had seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red. "I'm Colin Creevy! I'm in Gryffindor too!"

"Hi Colin." said Harry. "Nice to meet you."

"Sup Colin?" Tess asked nicely.

"Wow!" Colin said amazed. "You're that American!"

"Ron." Dean Thomas interrupted. "Is that your owl?"

Flying into the Great Hall was a brown tawny owl that landed in the bowl of chips, prompting laughter from the entire school.

"Bloody bird's a menace." Ron mumbled. Errol got up, blinked and flew off. Ron took one look at the scarlett letter and paled. Harry, already have witnessed Tess's similar shame, knew what was coming. "Oh crud."

"Look everyone!" The Irish boy Seamus Finnegan called out. 'Weasley's got himself a howler!"

"Go on Ron!" Neville Longbotton nudged. "I ignored one from my gran once. It was horrible."

"In other words open it already." Tess said already fearing the wrath of Mrs. Weasley.

Ron hesitantly opened the red letter and everyone plugged their ears. Harr thought for a moment it had exploded; a roar of sound fiIled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE -"

Mrs. Weasleys yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the hall were swiveling around to see who had received the Howler, and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.

"- LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU, QUINTESSA, AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED -"

Harry had been wondering when his name was going to crop up. He tried very hard to look as though he couldn't hear the voice that was making his eardrums throb. Tess on the other hand was dreading to be mentioned within a howler.

"-ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Harry and Ron sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.

"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you -" Hermione said, closing her books.

"Don't tell me I deserved it," snapped Ron.

Harry pushed his porridge away. His insides were burning with guilt. Mr. Weasley was facing an inquiry at work. After all Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had done for him over the summer ...

Tess didn't feel any better. In fact, she felt like smoking, thankfully she resisted.

Within the afternoon, the hours passing by, Tess found herself in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

The rest of the class came clattering in, and Ron sat next to Harry. Dean Thomas sat next to Tess.

The office opened to reveal Lockhart in his ever bright robes.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most- Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.

"That's not smiling." Tess whispered to Dean. "That's cringing. And right now I feel the need to cringe even more." Dean chuckled at her humor.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books -well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz." The entire class looked surprised at Lockhart's sentence. "Nothing to worry about just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in -"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes - start - now!"

Tess looked down at her paper and read:

1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart 's favorite color?

2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

3\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

4\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

Tess jaw dropped open. Just when she thought he couldn't get any worse, she was proven wrong. So to have a little fun, she gave her own unique answer to every question.

Puke green

To get laid.

Being born.

Don't know and don't care.

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky! Oh and who is this Tess Crosswell who wrote as an answer on question 2, "To get laid?" Tess raised her hand, trying not to snigger at his reaction. "Can you tell the class what it means?" That got Tess howling with laughter and the class stared at her weirdly. "Well?"

"Part of me wants to tell you guys." said Tess wiping her tears. "The other tiny sane part says telling you all second years, will take away your innocence and view of the world. In other words, some things are better left a mystery."

Lockhart gave them another roguish wink. Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned her name. Yet she wanted to know badly what Tess meant by "getting laid."

". . . but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact" - he flipped her paper over - "full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised a trembling hand.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so - to business -"

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.

"Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm." In spite of himself, Harry leaned around his pile of books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Tess was a bit interested. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville was cowering in his front row seat. "I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them." As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies. "

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Oh I'm so scared!" Tess announced sarcastically.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly eying the American witch. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage. It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

"Hold still!" Tess yelled at Neville before firing one of her bracelets that had a hidden blade in them at the chandelier and Neville came crashing on her.

"Come on now - round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted. He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were almost at the door, and said, "Well, I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing all pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.

"Hands on? "said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing -"

"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books - look at all those amazing things he's done -"

"He **says** he's done," Tess muttered. "Like I said before, a Grade A phony."


	14. Make It or Break It

Later in the week, on Saturday, came the day Tess had preparing for all summer; The Quidditch Tryouts. The events that took place would determine who was good enough to play. In the words of Liang Chow, "It was make it or break it" time.

Tess got the Quidditch robes-which she found unnecessary personally- and the spare broom she smuggled in her luggage, via Extension Charm, and took a look in the mirror.

"Don't screw this up." She said to herself. She went downstairs to the Quidditch field, as it was the only sport in the UK in wizarding. Going down, she saw that several other Gryffindors were there. Apparently Alicia Spinnet had graduated last year and there was a spot open for a Chaser. And luckily for Tess, a chaser was all she needed to be on Quidditch.

"Let's go!" Wood said to the people competing for a spot on the team. "Bring it in!" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry smile at her. "OK people. You think you got what it takes to be on the team? You think you got what it takes to be a champion? From what I see here, is a bunch of amateurs. The Lions here, define victory. You don't have a shot unless you prove you deserve one. So, when I call you in alphabetical order, you will play Chaser until I call you off. Now get out there and show us what you have! Come on!"

"Yeah!" Tess yelled along with everyone else.

A few people tried out, and failed miserably. Some people were ok. Others just flew in circles.

At last, it was Tess' turn. She mounted her broom, like a panther preparing to strike and took off high in the air. The Quaffle was released and she moved, zooming all over in the direction of the ball, all manuvers calculated and free flowing at the same time. In order to avoid getting hit by a Bludger, she did a flip over Angelena Johnson and landed on her broom, surfer style and grabbed the Quaffle and raced towards the goal and scored!

One would expect everyone to cheer but instead, the world stopped moving. Even Harry looked at her, jaw hanging wide open. He had practiced with her a few times, but he never saw her at her peak performance. And what she displayed was beyond peak performance.

Tess was about to make a smartmouth comeback when Wood beat her to it. "CROSSWELL! Get over here!" Tess rolled her eyes and flew to him. "What in God's name was that? This is a Quidditch field! What are you trying out for? The gymnastics team?"

"No." Tess said flatly. "I was just trying to make the goal."

Wood looked at her stoically before saying to her, "Hit the showers."

Not willing to screw up her chances of making the team, she flew down to the locker room. She stood there, breathing heavily before knocking over some shelves and punched the metal lockers. She couldn't believe herself. She didn't make the team, the team her mom was in. She didn't dare cry, because she hardly ever cried. So she just slumped down and closed her eyes.

Sometime later, she woke up and she looked at her watch, and two hours had passed, before changing into her regular street clothes. Needing a real bed, she slowly trekked to the Common Room, using her slow pace to reflect on what she did. Sure she did things the American way, but that's the Tess way.

"Password?" The Fat Lady asked once she reached the portrait.

"Wattlebird." Tess said numbly. The portrait door opened and Tess found in the common room, all of the Gryffindors looking at her and the entire Quidditch team standing in the middle, broom and all.

"Quintessa Crosswell." Wood said stepping forward, emitting fear. "I just have one thing to say." Tess braced herself for the big insult but instead got. "Congratulations."

"What?" Tess asked. "Congratulations for what?"

"For making the team and making Chaser." Harry said smiling.

"CONGRATULATIONS!" The entire House yelled, fireworks exploding and confetti going off. Tess just stood there, unwilling to believe her eyes. She thought that for sure she wasn't going to make it.

Everyone came up to her, shaking her hand and congratulating her. Katie Bell hugged her and the Weasley Twins lifted her up.

"Harry." said Tess. "Did you plan this?"

"With Ron and Hermione of course." He said with said wizards next to him.

"AAAAHHH!" She squealed and gave them all a bear hug that was close to breaking their ribs. "You guys are the best!"

All feelings of disappointment vanished that day, because Tess knew that somewhere in Heaven, her mom was proud of her.


	15. Morning Practice Sucks

Following that Saturday morning, Tess was enjoying every second of the following week. She didn't care that she was more popular or more feared by other houses. She cared about getting better at the sport. Being in shape was important to her anyway. But there came the downside of the cursed morning practice as she was shaken awake several hours earlier

than he would have liked by Katie Bell.

"Whatisit?" said Tess groggily.

"Quidditch practice!" said Wood. "Come on!"

Tess squinted at the window. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink-and-gold sky. Now that he was awake, he couldn't understand how he could have slept through the racket the birds were making.

"Katie," Tess croaked. "It's literally the crack of dawn."

"Exactly," said Katie. "I don't wanna get up at this time either but Oliver's the captain and he said so. Come on, grab your broom, and let's go, none of the other teams have started training yet; we're going to be first off the mark this year -"

Yawning and shivering slightly, Tess climbed out of bed and tried to find her Quidditch robes.

"Good girl," said Bell. "Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes."

When Katie left and Tess was in her robes, she sneaked back into bed to try to get some sleep. But unfortunately, Katie walked in the room and grabbed the sleeping girl, who was too tired to fight. She carried Tess to Harry who also was also trogging along in sleep.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked half asleep.

Katie smiled and an Aguamenti Charm on Tess' face and whispered to Harry, "Framing you." And she ran off, leaving a Harry Potter to face a raging Tess, soaked in cold wet water. And a raging Tess was almost as worse as an angry Snape. Harry gave a nervous chuckle before running to the Quidditch field for sanctuary while Tess ran behind him screaming, "I'M GONNA KILL YOU PUNK!"

Harry had never run so fast in his life, and he was literally running for his life. Even if she caught him, he couldn't hit her. She was a girl.

He ran all over the field and got on his broom and flew, but Tess followed him before Oliver Wood blew his whistle.

"Break it up!" He said, the rest of the team laughing their heads off. Wood also smiled a little, even as Tess kept glaring at Harry who was trying very hard not to run off, in order to spare his own life. The whole thing was Wood's idea, just to get his team awake. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the difference ..." Wood was holding up a large diagram of a Quidditch field on a large piece of parchment, on which were drawn many lines, arrows, and crosses in different colored inks. He took out his wand, tapped the board, and the arrows began to wiggle over the diagram like caterpillars. As Wood launched into a speech about his new tactics, Fred Weasley's head drooped right onto Angelina Johnson's shoulder and he began to snore.

The first paper took nearly twenty minutes to explain, but there was another board under that, and a third under that one. Harry sank into a stupor as Wood droned on and on but Tess stayed awake, mostly to think of new plans to get back at Harry.

"So," said Wood, at long last, jerking Harry from a wistful fantasy about what he could eating for breakfast at this very moment up at the castle. "Is that clear? Any questions?"

"I've got a question, Oliver," said George, who had woken with a start. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"

Wood wasn't pleased.

"Now, listen here, you lot," he said, glowering at them all. "We should have won the Quidditch cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately -owing to circumstances beyond our control - "

Harry shifted guiltily in his spot. He had been unconscious in the hospital wing for the final match of the previous year, meaning that Gryffindor had been a player short and had suffered their worst defeat in three hundred years. And Tess wasn't even on the team that year.

Wood took a moment to regain control of himself. Their last defeat was clearly still torturing him.

"So this year, we train harder than ever before ... Okay, let's go and put our new theories into practice!" Wood shouted, seizing his broomstick and leading the way in the middle of the field. Stifflegged and still yawning, his team followed.

They had been distracted so long that the sun was up completely now, although remnants of mist hung over the grass in the stadium. As Harry walked onto the field, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting in the stands.

"Aren't you finished yet?" called Hermione incredulously.

"Haven't even started," said Harry, looking jealously at the toast and marmalade Ron and Hermione had brought out of the Great Hall. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

"Harry come on!" Tess yelled. "I might kill you during practice!"

Ron looked at her worried and then Harry concerned. "What did you do?" He called out.

"I 'splashed' her with cold water." Harry said putting air quotes on the word, "Splashed." Ron was cringing while Hermione just slapped her palm to her face.

He mounted his broomstick and kicked at the ground, soaring up into the air. The cool morning air whipped his face, waking him far more effectively than Wood's long talk. It felt wonderful to be back on the Quidditch field. He soared right around the stadium at full speed, racing Fred and George. Tess kept circling around him, just to try to psych him out. And it was almost working, and there was no way Harry was losing to a girl.

"What's that funny clicking noise?" called Fred as they hurtled around the corner.

Harry looked into the stands. Colin was sitting in one of the highest seats, his camera raised, taking picture after picture, the sound strangely magnified in the deserted stadium.

"Look this way, Harry! This way!" he cried shrilly.

"Who's that?" said Fred.

"No idea," Harry lied, putting on a spurt of speed that took him as far away as possible from Colin.

"Apparently he's our new photographer." Tess said.

"What's going on?" said Wood, frowning, as he skimmed through the air toward them. "Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training program."

"He's in Gryffindor," said Harry quickly.

"People from opposing forces can be bought." Tess reminded the team.

"And even so, the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver," said George.

"What makes you say that?" said Wood testily.

"Because they're here in person," said George, pointing.

Several people in green robes were walking onto the field, broomsticks in their hands.

"I don't believe it!" Wood hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"

Wood shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man. Ron and Hermione, smelling trouble, came running down as fast as they could

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. `I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker."'

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Who?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Draco?" Tess asked surprised. "Looks like I'm not the only second year to make it on a team. Speaking of which, how did you make it on the team?"

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" - he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives - "sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Did you really bribe the team with fancy schmancy brooms because you're too lazy to even try it yourself?" Tess asked, earning "oooh's" from people.

"At least I'm not lazy like you Americans are." Draco said to her face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tess asked.

"At least I don't have an aunt who's so filthy as a Squibb to even get a paying job." Draco drawled. Immediately, Tess tried to jump him but it took the entire Gryffindor team to pull her back.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"

He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team." Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him. "Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

This made Tess stop fighting as she smiled at Hermione in pure pride.

The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you fiIthy little Mudblood," he spat.

Harry knew at once that Malfoy had said something really bad because there was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Tess shrieked while getting pulled back by Wood, Bell, and Johnson, "How dare you!" ; and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him. Tess looked like she was gonna be sick.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms.

"What happened, Harry? Can you turn the slug around?" Colin had run down from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front.

"Get out of the way, Colin!" said Harry angrily. He, Tess, and Hermione supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the forest.

"Nearly there, Ron," said Hermione as the gamekeeper's cabin came into view. "You'll be all right in a minute - almost there -"

They were within twenty feet of Hagrid's house when the front door opened, but it wasn't Hagrid who emerged. Gilderoy Lockhart, wearing robes of palest mauve today, came striding out.

"Quick, behind here," Tess hissed, dragging Harry and Ron behind a nearby bush. Hermione followed, somewhat reluctantly.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" Lockhart was saying loudly to Hagrid. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one - I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, good-bye!" And he strode away toward the castle.

"I can't believe that blonde retard is allowed in this school." Tess growled. "I'm not even sure how he graduated."

"Doesn't matter now." Hermione reminded her friend. "Let's get Ron cured at once."


	16. How to Cheer Your Best Friend

Hagrid appeared at once, when he heard his door being knocked, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was. "Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me - come in, come in - thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again -"

Harry, Tess, and Hermione supported Ron over the threshold into the one- roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, a fire crackling merrily in the other. Hagrid didn't seem perturbed by Ron's slug problem, which Harry hastily explained as he lowered Ron into a chair.

"Better out than in," he said cheerfully, plunking a large copper basin in front of him. "Get 'em all up, Ron."

"Nothing we can do but wait until it stops." said Tess anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand -"

Hagrid was bustling around making them tea. His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Harry.

"What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, scratching Fang's ears.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well," growled Hagrid, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

"Preach!" Tess announced cooly.

It was most unlike Hagrid to criticize a Hogwarts' teacher, and Harry looked at him in surprise. Hermione, however, said in a voice somewhat higher than usual, "I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job -"

"He was the on' man for the job," said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle fudge, while Ron coughed squelchily into his basin. "An' I mean the on' one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me," said Hagrid, jerking his head at Ron. "Who was he tryin' ter curse?"

"Malfoy called Hermione something - it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild."

"It went to apeshit in seconds," said Tess, patting Ron's shoulder so he could feel some comfort.. "Malfoy called her `Mudblood,' Hagrid -"

Tess' attention was driven to Ron as he dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance. Hagrid looked outraged.

"He didn'!" he growled at Hermione.

"He did," Harry said. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course -"

"It means dirty blood." Hermione said getting the courage to talk about it. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle Born. Someone with non magic parents. Someone like me. It's not a term one usually hears in a civilized conversation."

"Harry, there are some wizards - like Malfoy's family - who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." Ron gave a small burp, and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin and continued, "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom - he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"It's practically racism." said Tess.

"What is racism?" Ron asked. "Is it a thing about races?"

"No." Tess said sadly. "It's like Mudblood, but instead back centuries ago in America even in wizards, white people would bully, lynch or kill anyone who was colored. Black people, Indians, Chinese. But mostly blacks. For centuries and not just in America, black people were slaves to Americans."

"You ca' be serious." Hagrid said horrified.

"That's...it's just horryfing." Harry said in shock.

"I'm serious." Tess said. "And wizards are no better than Muggles."

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," said Ron, wiping his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. "Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out."

He retched and ducked out of sight again.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."

Harry would have pointed out that trouble didn't come much worse than having slugs pouring out of your mouth, but he couldn't; Hagrid's treacle fudge had cemented his jaws together.

"Treacle fudge, Ron?" he added as Ron reappeared.

"No thanks," said Ron weakly. "Better not risk it."

"Come an' see what I've bin growin'," said Hagrid as Harry and Hermione finished the last of their tea.

In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid's house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins Harry had ever seen. Each was the size of a large boulder.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" said Hagrid happily. "Fer the Halloween feast ... should be big enough by then."

"What've you been feeding them?" said Harry.

Hagrid looked over his shoulder to check that they were alone.

"Well, I've bin givin' them - you know - a bit o' help -"

Harry noticed Hagrid's flowery pink umbrella leaning against the back wall of the cabin. Harry had had reason to believe before now that this umbrella was not all it looked; in fact, he had the strong impression that Hagrid's old school wand was concealed inside it. Hagrid wasn't supposed to use magic. He had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, but Harry had never found out why -any mention of the matter and Hagrid would clear his throat loudly and become mysteriously deaf until the subject was changed.

"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?" said Hermione, halfway between disapproval and amusement. "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what yer little sister said," said Hagrid, nodding at Ron. "Met her jus' yesterday." Hagrid looked sideways at Harry, his beard twitching. "Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." He winked at Harry. "If yeh ask me, she wouldn' say no ter a signed -"

"Oh, shut up," said Harry. Ron snorted with laughter and the ground was sprayed with slugs.

"Watch it!" Hagrid roared, pulling Ron away from his precious pumpkins.

When they were up on the grounds, Tess pulled Hermione aside and said to her, "Who's the best witch around?"

"Circe?" She asked.

"Who's the smartest witch in the school?" Tess asked.

"Me." Hermione answered.

"Who is the best BFF anyone could have?" Tess asked. "You. Hermione, don't you think on it. Don't you let that insult get to you. In fact, Malfoy's just all roar and no spitfire. You're the spitfire." Tess pulled her in and as they were heading to the Common Room, Hermione asked.

"What does BFF mean?" Tess only laughed at this and nudged her to come along.


	17. The Writing on The Wall

It was nearly lunchtime and as Harry had only had one bit of treacle fudge since dawn, he was keen to go back to school to eat. Tess didn't mind as she went hungry for a few days once. They said good-bye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle, Ron hiccoughing occasionally, but only bringing up two very small slugs.

They had barely set foot in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out, "There you are, Potter -Crosswell - Weasley." Professor McGonagall was walking toward them, looking stern. "You will all do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley - elbow grease."

Ron gulped. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school. "Crosswell, you will serve time with a specific professor who has requested you personally."

"I wonder who's gonna be stuck with me." Tess muttered.

"I am." An oily icy voice drawled behind her. Turning around, she saw it was the greasy haired Professer Severus Snape. A year ago, Tess had mouthed off to Snape on her very first day and she made herself a sworn enemy. And apparently he hadn't forgiven her.

"Sup?" She asked, not afraid of him.

"Don't sup me young lady." He said. "Let's go." He gripped her arm tightly and led her down to the cold dark Potions room. "Now, you're going to clean all cauldrons and when you're done, you're going to write an essay summarizing what you know so far in Potions."

"Oh ok." She muttered.

As she worked in her detention, time passing by slowly tick by tick, Snape observed her every move, as if he was expecting her to do something. But Tess just went on her business, already cleaned all of the cauldrons and her hand throbbing from all the writing but she powered through it.

"Not good enough." Snape drawled. "You were lazy then, and you're lazy now."

"Professer." said Tess. "May I be blunt?"

"Fine." said Snape.

"I know I made a mistake when I insulted you like that." She said. "But at least now I am trying to make amends. I'm not asking you to treat me differently, what I am asking you, is to tell me, aside from my insults, what did Harry and I, mostly Harry ever do to make you hate us so much?"

"Keep working girl." Snape said, now a little annoyed.

"Is this because of our parents?" Tess asked, stopping him in his tracks. "I know Harry's dad was a dick to you but is it because of my mother that you hate me?"

"You're mother was not even close to causing me most of the pain I went through." said Snape.

Tess stood silent before answering, "What?"

"Your mother...Morgan." He said. "She called us, "frenemies." I think that means friendly rivals or something, but that's what we were."

"So you don't hate me because of my mom?" Tess asked. "Do you hate Harry because of his father?"

"Potter is just like his father." Snape said darkly. "Arrogant, a spoilt brat and a stubborn fool. And Lily… Oh Lily."

"Lily." said Tess. "Lily Potter. That was Harry's mum right?" No response. "Wait. Did you have a thing for Harry's mom?"

"Get. Out." Snape said, not even turning around.

Tess quickly grabbed her things and made a stop at the door. "I'm sorry." She said quietly and with pity.

She ran outside, met up with Ron who had met up with Hermione; they all ran to Harry who looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Did you hear that?" He asked.

"Hear what?" Ron asked.

"That voice." Harry said.

"Voice?" asked Hermione. "What voice?"

"You feelin ok man?" Tess asked.

"I heard it before." said Harry. "In Lockhart's office-" He stopped because he became very rigid. "It's moving. I think it's going to kill." He made a break for it, running north.

"Kill?" Ron asked.

"Harry wait!" Hermione yelled, with the rest of them following her, running after Harry.

They came across an empty corridor with Harry stopping at a very strange sight; spiders running out of the wall single file.

"Strange." Harry mused. "I've never seen spiders act like that."

"I don't like spiders." Ron said, looking like he was gonna faint. Tess giggled at this while Ron glared at her. "You try recovering from the time when you were four and your toy broom becomes a giant hairy spider. Tess?"

She was distracted by a ghastly reflection of the wall in the water. They looked up to see red words written on the wall. Hermione had a horrible feeling that it was written in blood.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED  
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE

"Oh no." Harry muttered in horror looking over to the left. Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

For a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Ron said, "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we try and help -" Harry began awkwardly.

"Trust me," said Tess. "We don't want to be found here."

But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

"What's going on here? Go on, make way!" Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on Harry.

"You!"he screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll -"

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. "Everyone, will proceed to their dormitories immediately. Everyone except, you four." In seconds, the hallway cleared while the Golden Quartet stayed behind with the staff. "She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.

Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.

"Not dead?" choked Filch in mid sob, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). "But how, I cannot say . . . ."

"Ask him!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.

"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced -"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what he wrote on the wall!"

"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including all the Lockharts on the walls.

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. "He saw my Kwikspell letter!"

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows, and Harry's sense of forboding increased; he was sure nothing Snape had to say was going to do him any good.

"Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. "Seeing as they were serving detention. However, why was Hermione not at the feast and why did they not go there after their detentions?"

"I was looking for them." Hermione lied. "I had just found them when they said that they weren't hungry."

"Yeah." Harry agreed. "We were all heading back to the common room when we found Mrs. Norris."

"I suggest, Headmaster, that these four are not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if Potter and Crosswell were deprived of certain privileges until they is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel Potter should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest as an example."

"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter or Crosswell has done anything wrong."

Dumbledore was giving Harry and Tess a searching look. His twinkling light- blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed. Just to be on the safe side, Tess covered her chest, but dropped her hands when the teachers gave her an odd look.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly.

Snape looked furious. So did Filch.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep -"

"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry, Ron, Tess and Hermione. "In the meantime, I strongly recommend caution to all."

They went, as quickly as they could without actually running. By the time they had reached the moving stair cases, they spiked up the conversation.

"It's a bit strange isn't it?" Hermione asked.

"Strange?" Harry asked.

"You hear this voice." Hermione said. "A voice only you can hear and then Mrs. Norris turns up petrified. It's just strange."

"Well it's a coincidence all right." said Tess.

"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore and the others."

"No," said Ron, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."

Something in Ron's voice made Harry ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"

"'Course I do," said Ron quickly. "But -you must admit it's weird ...

"I know it's weird," said Harry. "The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber Has Been Opened... What's that supposed to mean?"

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else."

As Tess made her way into the common room, she had only one thought on her mind.

'What the Hell is going on here?'


	18. A Case is Open

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Harry had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red- eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly' and "looking happy."

Some of Tess' Slytherin friends fired towards her, gossip about there being a wizard who hated cats and a wizard who according to Draco would be there to purge the school of Mudbloods. He got a split lip from that. Tess knew that the best way to not spread gossip is to not say anything. She was never so grateful for the rare ability to keep a secret.

Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Ron, she was a great cat lover.

"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny's lip trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking -" Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.

The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out.

Harry had been held back in Potions, where Snape had made him stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. Harry found Ron at the back of the library, measuring his History of Magic homework. Professor Binns had asked for a three foot-long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards."

"And yet what is wrong with American Wizarding History?" Tess asked. "This is why I wear only half of my uniform, this Brti school sometimes just has no sense of patriotism." Last year, Tess found out to her horror that she had to wear a uniform. After a few months, she got rid of the vest, plaid skirts, stockings, flats, cloak and went with just the button up shirt with the tie, jackets, jeans and sneakers and boots. This of course didn't make Snape like her even more.

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short." said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny. "

"Where is she?" asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework.

"Somewhere over there," said Ron, pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."

"I think she already did last year." Tess said, getting a laugh from Ron.

Harry told Ron about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him.

"Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Ron, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible. "All that junk about Lockhart being so great -"

Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them.

"All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

"You really couldn't leave one or two behind for the more important books?" Tess drawled before giving a small shriek. "I'm turning into Hermione!"

The boys laughed at her while Hermione rolled her eyes and gave a small smile.

"Why do you want it?" said Harry.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" said Harry quickly.

"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else -"

"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it -"

"I only need another two inches, come on -"

The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff room fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.

To Tess, it was a perfect time to catch up on sleep. She didn't care if Binns woke her up, she would just fall asleep again.

Today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand.

Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.

"Miss - er -?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.

Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms and Neville Longbottom's elbow slipped off his desk. Tess woke up groggily.

Professor Binns blinked.

"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk s!-ping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers."

He stuttered to a halt. Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.

"Miss Grant?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement, Harry was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.

"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale -"

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. Harry could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Come on Professor." said Tess. "It's not every day we're interested in your lessons."

Some students let out an "ooh." while Binns let out a ghostly version of a red face, if that was even possible.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see ... the Chamber of Secrets …"

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago - the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution." He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued. "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise. "Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who, in Slytherin's view were unworthy to study magic." There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed. "The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Tess' hand was in the air.

"Sir - you say there is a `horror within' the Chamber? You're implying that something living resides in there?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice. The class exchanged nervous looks. "I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing -"

"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it -"

"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore -"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't -" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"

And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.

"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Harry, Tess, and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home ..."

Hermione and Tess nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly.

Although Tess was open with the Sorting Hat's choosing with her, Harry had never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he'd placed the hat on his head a year before: You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that…

But Harry, who had already heard of Slytherin House's reputation for turning out Dark wizards, had thought desperately, Not Slytherin! and the hat had said, Oh, well, if you're sure ... better be Gryffindor…

"Do you think it's true?" Ron asked. "Do you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?"

"Well if it's enough to make one History of Magic lesson interesting for the first time in forever, yes." Tess delcared.

"Well if there is really a Chamber of Secrets." said Harry. "And it's open, then that means-"

"The Heir of Slytherin has returned to Hogwarts." said Hermione finishing Harry. "The question is, who is it?"

"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks all Muggle-borns are scum?"

He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced.

"If you're talking about Malfoy -"

"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You heard him - `You'll be next, Mudbloods!'- come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him -"

"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.

"Look at his family," said Harry, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."

"They could've had the key opening to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son ..."

"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible ...

"But how do we prove it?" said Harry darkly.

"We need to get to the heart of the operation." Tess said. "And right now, that heart is apparently Malfoy."

"There might be a way," said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect -"

"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" said Ron irritably.

"All right I got this," said Tess cooly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."

"But that's impossible," Harry said as Ron laughed.

"No, it's not," said Tess. "You know, I'm appalled by the lack of attention to what weapons you have. How do you losers even survive? Two principles I grew up with; Lying and Crime. I've heard about this in the broom races I used to go to. Some sort of transformation potion, the uh..Golygice or Maliajuce potion?"

"The Polyjuice Potion?" Hermione asked.

"Yes!" Tess exclaimed. "Thank you!"

"What's that?" said Ron and Harry together.

"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago -"

"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" muttered Ron.

"It transforms you into somebody else." Tess explained. Think about it! We could change into four of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would literally tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."

"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Ron, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?"

"It wears off after a while," said Tess, waving her hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe ain't gonna be a walk in the park."

"Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library." Hermione added on.

There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher.

"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Ron, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."

"Well it's good thing that there is someone here who loves giving autographs even on his deathbed." Tess said.

"Who-?" Ron realized who she was talking about and Harry gaped at her. "You really are a snake in lion's fur. Who knows? Maybe Slytherin does run in your blood!"

Tess and the boys laughed while Hermione looked at her frowning.

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.

Tess honestly prefferred to be in Binn's classroom than this...mess.

Harry was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf If he hadn't had a very good reason for keeping Lockhart in a good mood, he would have refused to do it.

"Nice loud howl, Harry - exactly - and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced - like this - slammed him to the floor - thus with one hand, I managed to hold him down - with my other, I put my wand to his throat -I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm - he let out a piteous moan - go on, Harry - higher than that - good - the fur vanished - the fangs shrank - and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective - and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.

"Homework - compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave. Harry returned to the back of the room, where Ron and Hermione were waiting.

"Ready?" Harry muttered.

"Wait till everyone's gone," said Hermione nervously. "All right . . . "

She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, Harry, Tess, and Ron right behind her.

"Er - Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to - to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it - I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms."

"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer -"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help," said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill. "Yes, nice, isn't it?" he said, misreading the revolted look on Ron's face. "I usually save it for book-signings."

He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.

"So, Harry, Tess." said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you two are useful players. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players ...

Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat and then hurried off after Ron and Hermione "I don't believe it," he said as the three of them examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"Looks like he's good for something." Tess said cheerfully.

"That's because he's a brainless git," said Ron. "But who cares, we've got what we needed -"

"He is not a brainless git," said Hermione shrilly as they half ran toward the library.

"Just because he said you were the best student of the year -"

They dropped their voices as they entered the muffled stillness of the library. Madam Pince, the librarian, was a thin, irritable woman who looked like an underfed vulture.

"Moste Potente Potions?" she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; but Hermione wouldn't let go.

"I was wondering if I could keep it," she said breathlessly.

"Oh, come on," said Ron, wrenching it from her grasp and thrusting it at Madam Pince. "We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough."

Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Hermione put it carefully into her bag and they left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.

Hermione opened Moste Potente Potions carefully, and the three of them bent over the damp-spotted pages. It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there were some very unpleasant illustrations, which included a man who seemed to have been turned inside out and a witch sprouting several extra pairs of arms out of her head. Tess thought of the unpleasant ones as interesting.

"Here it is," said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Harry sincerely hoped the artist had imagined the looks of intense pain on their faces.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," said Hermione as they scanned the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass," she murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. "Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store- cupboard, we can help ourselves ... Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn - don't know where we're going to get that - shredded skin of a boomslang -. that'll be tricky, too and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into."

"Excuse me?" said Ron sharply. "What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it -"

"Ron." Said Tess. "It's not about toenails. It's about the DNA." The three looked at her as if she spoke Japanese. "DNA. Genetic code. You know the building blocks of life." Harry and Hermione understood while Ron stared at her blankly. "Ok, DNA is a tiny tiny blueprint that carries the code of traits of every living thing and how they grow. And why am I even explaining this to you?"

"I don't know." said Ron. "You think you'd learn by now."

"We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last ...

Ron turned, speechless, to Harry, who had another worry.

"D'you realize how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione? Shredded skin of a boomslang, that's definitely not in the students' cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea ...

"You really have no idea how many buildings I've broken into and things I've stolen do you?" asked Tess.

"But Tess." Harry warned.

Hermione shut the book with a snap. "Well, if you two are going to chicken out, fine," she said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. "I don't want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in.."

"I never thought Id see the day when you'd be persuading us to break rules," said Ron. "All right, we'll do it. But not toenails, okay?"

"How long will it take to make, anyway?" said Harry as Hermione, looking happier, opened the book again.

"Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days ... I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients."

"A month?!" said Harry. "Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle- borns in the school by then!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Do you have a better plan here? Because like it or not, this is all we've got. So full steam ahead I say."


	19. Quidditch Ouchies and Suspicions

Tess woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. She was a bit nervous, mainly at the thought of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy, since it was her very first match. She had never wanted to beat Slytherin so badly. And she wanted to see the look on Malfoy's face when he lost. After half an hour of lying there with her insides churning, she got up, dressed, and went down to breakfast early, where she found the rest of the Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much. She sat next to Harry and squeezed his hand in hope that he wouldn't pass out in fear.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry and Tess good luck as he entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers -" ("Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August") "- and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."

Chest heaving with emotion, Wood turned to Harry.

"It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to. And Tess, you may be a newbie, but we're all counting on you."

"Right so don't F this up." said Tess.

"So no pressure, Harry, you too Tess." said Fred, winking at them.

"And after Quidditch." George said winking at Tess. "What do you say?"

Harry gave him with his blazing green eyes, a murderous look that said, "Don't you even dare."

"I'm only joking." George said, a little scared.

As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three ... two ... one. . .

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.

About an hour later, and already Slytherin was in the lead. Tess managed to score some goals but it did no justice. To put it in her words, they were getting their ass kicked. Tess beat herself in her head as Slytherin won another goal.

"Another goal for Slytherin!" Lee Jordan, Gryffindor boomed through the commentary microphone. "They leave 90-30."

The Slytherin players cheered and flew in a single line formation, as it was tradition to do so when they were far in the lead. In the stands, sitting next to Snape, was Lucius Malfoy who was watching his son with expectant pride. Surprisingly next to him, was Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy. But she was watching two people; her son and Tess. She watched the young witch interest as she knew her mother. 'Yes.' She thought. 'Just like her mother. And a pureblood like her will definitely will be a candidate for my son's courtship. If only I could clean that Yank filth off of her. But that's what Snape is for."

"All right there, Scarhead?" yelled Malfoy, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his broom.

Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.

"Close one, Harry!" said George, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. Harry saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.

Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible ...

Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

"Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.

"Watch yourself Harry!" Wood yelled, flying to Harry. But he didn't notice the Bludger coming at him, and Wood was in the way. With no time to lose, Tess leaped off her broom and pushed Wood back, with him still on broom and

CRACK!

The Bludger hit her in the side, mostly in the leg and it sent her flying down crashing in the stands. Gryffindor student piled around her, and some screamed at the sight: Tess' leg was hanging as the Bludger nearly ripped it off. The severe pain she was in knocked her out.

"ALRIGHT!" Hooch yelled, clearing the way. "Let me get her to the hospital wing."

"Not to worry." Lockhart said rummaging his way through the crowd. "I will fix her right away. A good damsel always needs a man to help her."

"Not...a damsel." Tess groaned in her sleep. "Keep...playing…...Harry. Don't.. tell Wood...I messed up."

"Poor girl." Lockhart said still smiling. "Doesn't know what she's saying. I have done this countless times to thousands of damsels in distress."

"Absolutely not!" A sharp voice cried out. "I will see to it that she gets there myself."

"Madam I don't think-" Lockhart was cut off by the ever motherly gaze of Narcissa Malfoy, and it was not a loving one.

"See to it that she's taken well care off." She ordered.

It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering onto his glasses. He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, "Slytherin lead, 100 points to 30 -' But he was freaking out because his best friend was grievously injured and he tried to go down to help but but the Bludger kept chasing him. He would see to it that the Bludger and the Slytherins would pay.

The Slytherins' superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.

"Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger -" Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry.

"We need time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time.

Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened and Tess is out of commission. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it - it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game except for Tess but only because she was in the way. The Slytherins must have done something to it."

"I'm gonna make Malfoy wish he was never born." Angelina Johnson growled. The rest of the team was thinking the same thing.

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then . . . . " said Wood, anxiously.

Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, Harry could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in his direction.

"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one. Tess may be out but we've got to make sure we don't give up. As she said like in practice, "Asses in the sky!"

"Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your head off."

Wood was looking from Harry to the Weasleys.

" Oliver, this is insane," said Katie Bell Spinner angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry-

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone! I'm not gonna let Tess get injured for nothing."

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. " `Get the Snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him-"

Madam Hooch had joined them.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood.

Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.

"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry -leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own. As Harry and Tess would say, "ASSES IN THE SKY!" THe Gryffindor team cheered and took off.

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open, rain was speckling his glasses and ran up his nostrils as he hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Bludger. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he must look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the Gryffindor goal posts, where Adrian Pucey was trying to get past Wood.

A whistling in Harry's ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" yelled Malfoy as Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, glaring back at Malfoy in hatred, he saw it - the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches above Malfoy's left ear - and Malfoy, busy laughing at Harry, hadn't seen it.

He charged for it and Malfoy followed him. It was a short course race before Malfoy fell off his broom. Draco could practically smell the disappointment emitting from his father.

For an agonizing moment, Harry struck his arm out in an effort to catch the Snitch.

WHAM.

He had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he kept flying towards the Snitch and he fell off his broom.

With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.

"Aha," he said vaguely. "We've won."

And he fainted.

He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth.

"Oh, no, not you," he moaned.

"Doesn't know what he's saying." said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

"No!"said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks ...

He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible.

"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times -"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth.

"He should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say -"

Through the thicket of legs around him, Harry spotted Fred and George Weasley, wrestling the rogue Bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight.

"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

"No - don't -" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at Harry's shoulder and spread all the way down to his fingertips. It felt as though his arm was being deflated. He didn't dare look at what was happening. He had shut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, but his worst fears were realized as the people above him gasped and Colin Creevey began clicking away madly. His arm didn't hurt anymore - nor did it feel remotely like an arm.

"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing - ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him? - and Madam Pomfrey will be able to - er - tidy you up a bit."

As Harry got to his feet, he felt strangely lopsided. Taking a deep breath he looked down at his right side. What he saw nearly made him pass out again.

Poking out of the end of his robes was what looked like a thick, flesh- colored rubber glove. He tried to move his fingers. Nothing happened.

Lockhart hadn't mended Harry's bones. He had removed them.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm. "I can mend bones in a second - but growing them back - "

"You will be able to, won't you?" said Harry desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pajamas. "You'll have to stay the night ...

Tess was in the bed next to him, sleeping peacefully. According to Pomfrey on some of the Slytherin girl's orders, she had been given a Pain Numbing Potion. Narcissa Malfoy also checked up on her then her son before being whisked away by her husband. Hermione waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Ron helped him into his pajamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery, boneless arm into a sleeve.

"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron called through the curtain as he pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff. "If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"

"No," said Harry, getting into bed. "But it doesn't do anything else either. Be lucky Tess didn't get the same treatment."

As he swung himself onto the bed, his arm flapped pointlessly.

Hermione and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro.

"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to him. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business.

So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned Harry's mouth and throat as it went down, making him cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Ron and Hermione to help Harry gulp down some water.

"We won, though," said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face ... he looked ready to kill ... "I want to know how he fixed that Bludger," said Hermione darkly "So I can teach him a lesson."

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff ...

"If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking," said Ron. The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Harry.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said George. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy." They noticed Tess who was still sleeping peacefully. "What's gonna happen to her?"

"Pomfrey cast some sort of healing charm but she said she needed rest." said Harry.

"A true Quidditch player." said Wood. "I should have noticed the Bludger. This is my fault."

They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "These children needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow and this girl almost lost a whole leg! Out! OUT!" And Harry was left alone, with nothing to distract him from the stabbing pains in his limp arm except for the hope that Tess would be alright and not in pain.

Meanwhile, Mr. Malfoy pulled his wife and asked her, "What are you playing at? Helping that wrench?"

Narcissa smiled and whispered something in his ear. Lucius Malfoy's scowling gaze turned into shock and then glee. Malicious glee.


	20. Another Victim in the Lineup

Hours and hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain: His arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, he thought that was what had woken him.

Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.

"Get off!" he said loudly, and then, "Dobby!"

The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose. "Harry Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?"

Tess heaved herself out of the bed and pushed Dobby's sponge away.

"What're you doing here?" she said. "Who are you? And how did you know I missed the train?" Dobby's lip trembled and Tess and Harry was seized by a sudden suspicion.

"It was you!" He said slowly. "You stopped the barrier from letting us through!"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward" - he showed Harry ten long, bandaged fingers - "but Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that Harry Potter would get to school another way!"

He was rocking backward and forward, shaking his ugly head.

"Dobby was 'so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir . ...

Harry slumped back onto his pillows. Tess however, was livid with rage.

"Do you realize how close you were to getting us and Ron chucked out?" she asked fiercely. "You better scram before I heal, Dobby, or I might strangle you."

Dobby smiled weakly.

"Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."

He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself. Tess just felt pity for the house elf.

"Why d'you wear that thing, Dobby?" she asked curiously.

"This, miss?" said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. "'Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever." Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make -"

"Your Bludger?" said Harry, anger rising once more. "What d'you mean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me and Tess?"

"Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home! Dobby never wanted Harry Potter's best friend to be hurt but she got in the way."

"Oh, is that all?" said Harry angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, sit... And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more."

"Repeat itself?" Tess asked. "This has happened before?"

Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby. . ."

"So there is a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered. "And did you say it's been opened before? Tell us, Dobby!"

He seized the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the water jug. "But I'm not Muggle-born - how can I be in danger from the Chamber?"

"

"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen - go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too dangerous -"

"Who is it, Dobby?" Tess asked, feeling sore from her leg, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who's behind it? Who opened it last time? And when did this happen before?"

"Dobby can't, miss. Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed the elf. "Go home, Harry Potter, go home!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" said Harry fiercely. "One of our best friends is Muggle-born; she'll be first in line if the Chamber really has been opened -"

"Harry Potter risks his own life for his friends!" moaned Dobby in a kind of miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But he must save himself, he must, Harry Potter must not -"

Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering. Harry heard it, too. There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside.

"Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack, and Harry's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. He slumped back into bed, his eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as the footsteps drew nearer.

Next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He checked the wing before going to the door at the end of the room and opening the door. The teachers were carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight. Harry lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. He heard urgent voices, and then Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. He heard a sharp intake of breath as the door closed.

"Great." Harry muttered. "Now how are we gonna know what's going on?"

"I've got something." Tess said. "Can you get my bag?" Nodding, Harry passed her, her backpack and she rumaged through it until she found what she was looking for; a small mirror.

"What are we gonna do with that?" Harry asked. "Check for pimples?"

Tess gave him an incredulous look. "No. We're gonna see what's up in there." She cleared her throat. "Mirror, Mirror, two three and four. What's going on behind that closed door?"

"Wait." Harry said as the mirror flashed to where the staff was gathered around the bed. "Is that…"

"Yeah." said Tess. "It's the Magic Mirror from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. It was actually inspired by the story itself."

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed, showing through the mirror like a small television.

"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs." Tess and Harrry watched this with dread.

"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," said Professor McGonagall. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."

Harry's stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, he raised himself a few inches so he could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.

It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.

"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think ... If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate - who knows what might have -"

The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip.

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" said Professor McGonagall eagerly.

Dumbledore didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey.

A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. Harry, three beds away, caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic.

"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted..."

"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

"It means," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

Tess and Harry looked at each other horrified before turning their attention back to the tiny screen.

Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.

"But, Albus ... surely ... who?" "The question is not who," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Colin. "The question is, how . . . ." And from what Tess and Harry could see of Professor McGonagall's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than he did.

"This is bad." said Tess. "Now we have three."

"Three?" Harry asked.

"It's the code of the Salem Squad, the American wizarding police." Tess explained. "One's an incident, two's a coincidence."

"What's number three?" Harry asked, already dreading the answer.

"A pattern."


	21. Meet Moaning Myrtle

The next day, Harry and Tess were released from the hospital wing and met up with the others in the girls bathroom. Tess could walk but it hurt every once in a while. Harry told Hermione everything they saw on what was called, the CaMirror.

"Again?" Hermione asked. "You mean the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?"

"Of course." Ron said. "Don't you see? Lucius Malfoy must have opened it while he was at school. And now he's taught Draco how to do it."

"Come to think of it." said Tess. "Maybe it's not really Malfoy. I mean, it just seems to obvious."

"Tess we don't have any other leads or anymore suspects." Harry reminded her.

"Maybe." Hermione said, sprinkling some of the ingredients she got from the student cupboard. "We'll have to wait until we've got full access to the Polyjuice Potion to know for sure."

"And lie to me." said Ron. "Why are we brewing a tricky potion in broad daylight in the middle of a girls lavatory-"

"The word is bathroom." Tess argued.

"Lavatory." Ron argued back.

"Bathroom."

"Lavatory."

"Bath-"

"Enough!" Harry exclaimed. "Ron has a point. Tess I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but don't you think we'll get caught?"

Tess scoffed. "No one ever comes in here."

"And why not?" Ron asked.

"Two words." said Tess. "Moaning Myrtle."

"Who?" Ron asked, not noticing a ghostly squat girl peering from the cubicles.

"Moaning Myrtle." said Hermione.

"Who's Moaning Myrtle?" Ron asked.

" **I'm** Moaning Myrtle!" The ghost screeched. "I wouldn't expect you to know me. Who would ever talk about ugly, miserable, moping, moaning Myrtle?" Myrtle screamed flying around and landing in a toilet, flooding the cubicle.

"She's a little sensitive." Hermione said.

Ron looked at her as if to say, "A little?"


	22. Best. Potions Lesson. EVER

The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pure- blood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.

"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face fearful. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

In the second week of December, Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione signed her list; they had heard that Malfoy was staying, which struck them as very suspicious. The holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him.

Unfortunately, the potion was only half finished. They still needed the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin, and the only place they were going to get them was from Snape's private stores. Harry privately felt he'd rather face Slytherin's legendary monster than let Snape catch him robbing his office. It was a good thing Tess grew up a street child

"What we need," said Tess briskly as Thursday afternoon's double Potions lesson loomed nearer, "is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Snape's office and take what we need."

Harry and Ron looked at her nervously.

"I think Id better do the actual stealing," Hermione continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "You three will be expelled if you get into any more trouble, and I've got a clean record. So all you need to do is cause enough mayhem to keep Snape busy for five minutes or so."

Harry smiled feebly. Deliberately causing mayhem in Snape's Potions class was about as safe as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye.

"That me and Harry can do." Tess announced happily while Harry was plotting away revenge. Speaking of which, after Harry had splashed water on their morning practice, she got him back by slipping in Dragon Hot Sauce she had got from a Ravenclaw 4th year.

Potions lessons took place in one of the large dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindors' work while the Slytherins sniggered appreciatively. Draco Malfoy, who was Snape's favorite student, kept flicking puffer-fish eyes at Ron and Harry, who knew that if they retaliated they would get detention faster than you could say "Unfair."

Harry's Swelling Solution was far too runny, but he had his mind on more important things. He was waiting for Tess' signal, and he hardly listened as Snape paused to sneer at his watery potion. When Snape turned and walked off to bully Neville, Tess caught Harry's eye and nodded and then she nodded at Hermione, telling her to get ready.

Harry ducked swiftly down behind his cauldron, pulled one of Fred's Filibuster fireworks out of his pocket, and gave it a quick prod with his wand. The firework began to fizz and sputter. Knowing he had only seconds, Harry straightened up, took aim, and lobbed it into the air; it landed right on target in Goyle's cauldron.

Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate - Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Harry saw Hermione slip quietly into Snape's office.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft - when I find out who did this -"

Harry and Tess tried not to laugh as he watched Malfoy hurry forward, his head drooping with the weight of a nose like a small melon. As half the class lumbered up to Snape's desk, some weighted down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk through gigantic puffedup lips, Harry saw Hermione slide back into the dungeon, the front of her robes bulging.

When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall make sure that person is expelled."

Harry arranged his face into what he hoped was a puzzled expression. Tess however was a natural at looking confused. Snape was looking right at him, and the bell that rang ten minutes later could not have been more welcome.

"He knew it was me," Harry told Tess, Ron and Hermione as they hurried back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "I could tell."

Hermione threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.

"It'll be ready in two weeks," she said happily.

"Snape can't prove it was you two" said Ron reassuringly to Tess and Harry. "What can he do?"

"Knowing Snape, the definition of Oh Crap." said Tess as the potion frothed and bubbled.


	23. Harry Potter, The Prime Suspect?

A week later, Harry, Tess, Ron, and Hermione were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days ...

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he, too, read the sign with interest.

"Unless it'd be sentient, I'd say not." said Tess.

"Could be useful," he said to Harry and Hermione as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"

Harry, Tess, and Hermione were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited. Tess had a hidden small knife in one of her combat boots.

"You brought a knife?" Ron asked.

"You betcha." said Tess proudly. "One thing I learned in Chicago is to always have a backup."

"I thought you were from New York." Harry said to her.

"When I was a baby to protect me." She explained. "My mom moved to Chicago, Illinois. We visited Sara for Christmas when my mom passed."

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not -" Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

"You **had** to say something." Tess muttered.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called ' "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape. He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear.

Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"That's not how we do it in America or Japan." Tess whispered. "We just go for it."

"You Americans have no sense of decency." Hermione hissed.

"You Brits have no sense of adventure." Tess snapped back.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.

"One - two - three -"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" said Harry and Ron together.

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see . . ." Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me -"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached Harry and Ron first.

"Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter -" Harry moved automatically toward Hermione. "I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Zabini, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger - you can partner Miss Bulstrode."

Behind the Italian boy, walked a Slytherin girl who reminded Harry of a picture he'd seen in Holidays with Hags. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.

Malfoy just wandered, wondering who and where his partner was. "Alright." He said out loud. "What tosser am I stuck with?"

"Why don't you ask the bitch who can hear every word you're saying?" asked an American voice. Malfoy turned around to see none other than Tess herself.

"Sometimes I'm the only one who listens." said Malfoy.

"Oh I'll listen." said Tess. "When you beg for your **life**."

"Bring it on." said Malfoy grinning.

"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"

Tess and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one ... two ... three -"

Tess readied herself to strike wand , but Malfoy had already started on "two". His spell hit Tess so hard she felt as though she'd been hit over the head with a saucepan. She stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, Tess pointed her wand straight at Malfoy and shouted, "Rictusempra!"

A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees; Tess had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing. Tess, feeling that it wouldn't be fair as she had a tiny bit more experience in dueling, removed the charm. Big mistake as there was a cry of "Tarantallegra!" and the next second Tess' legs began to jerk around out of her control in a kind of quickstep.

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge.

"Finite Incantatem!" he shouted; Tess' feet stopped dancing, Malfoy stopped laughing, and they were able to look up.

A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever his broken wand had done (Seamus had a reputation for setting things on fire.); but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor. Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off. It was difficult: She was a lot bigger than he was.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan ...

Careful there, Miss Fawcett ... Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second, Boot I think Id better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you -"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops -my wand is a little overexcited -"

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.

"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

But Lockhart wasn't listening.

"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

Tess slowly picked up her knife out of her boot and concealed in in her shirt pocket in case things got messy.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it ...

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Harry wasn't sure what made him do it. He wasn't even aware of deciding to do it. All he knew was that his legs were carrying him forward as though he was on casters and that he had shouted stupidly at the snake, "Leave him alone!" And miraculously - inexplicably - the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now on Harry. Harry felt the fear drain out of him. He knew the snake wouldn't attack anyone now, though how he knew it, he couldn't have explained.

He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful - but certainly not angry and scared.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall. But he was stopped by Tess shouting,

"What's your problem?!"

" **He's** the problem!" He shouted. "Keep him away from me!"

"So?" Tess asked, stepping out in front of Harry. "He's still the same person he was a minute ago! Come on Harry."

While Tess led him out of the room, Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at the duo in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn't like it when he looked back. He was also dimly aware of an ominous muttering all around the walls. Then he felt a tugging on the back of his robes.

"Come on," said Rods voice in his ear. "Move - come on -"

Ron steered them out of the hall, Hermione hurrying alongside them. As they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. Harry didn't have a clue what was going on, and neither Tess, Ron nor Hermione explained anything until they had dragged him all the way up to the empty Gryffindor common room. Then Ron pushed Harry into an armchair and said, "You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?" said Harry.

`A Parselmouth!" said Hermione. "You can talk to snakes!"

"I know," said Harry. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once - long story - but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to that was before I knew I was a wizard -"

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Tess repeated skeptically.

"So?" said Harry. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"Oh, no they can't," said Tess. "You know how I say rare is awesome? In this case and in this school, rare is **bad**."

"What's bad?" said Harry, starting to feel quite angry. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin -"

"Oh, that's what you said to it?" Ron asked.

"What d'you mean? You were there - you heard me -"

"I only heard-" Tess made several amateur snake hisses. " Parseltongue, snake language.

Harry gaped at him. "I spoke a different language? But - I didn't realize - how can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"

"I don't know Harry." said Hermione. "But it sounded like you were egging the snake on or something."

Ron shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking as though someone had died. Tess was just trying not to freak out. Harry couldn't see what was so terrible.

"D'you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a massive snake biting off Justin's head?" he said. "What does it matter how I did it as long as Justin doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"

"It matters," said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice, "because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent."

"And with everything going on." Tess said. "The Heir of Slytherin, the Writing on the Wall, Colin and Mrs. Norris and now you being able to speak Parseltongue, all fingers point to you."

Harry's mouth fell open.

"Exactly," said Ron. "And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something -"

"But I'm not," said Harry, with a panic he couldn't quite explain. "I can't be."

"You'll find that hard to prove," said Hermione. "He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be."

"Tess." Harry pleaded. "Please. Step in here."

"Well there may be a way to know." She said. "My uncle, Michael Crosswell, was a doctor, specializing in genetic therapy. I still have contacts with his friends back in New York. But until we get the results of a genetic test, which could take a while, it looks like you're descended of Salazar Slytherin himself."


	24. Who's Your Father?

By next morning, however, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term was canceled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, now that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey. In spite of Tess defending him, Harry was the talk of the school and in the bad way. People kept pointing and whispering at him. And it got so extreme to the point where some people parted like the Red Sea. Some people had started to fear Tess while the Ravenclaws just looked at her like they were analyzing her. Luckily, Tess had sent a hair of Harry's to her late uncle's workplace where she knew some of his friends, and according to the letter she got back, it would take a big while to get the results back since Slytherin's DNA was hard to get.

Harry fretted about this next to the fire in the Gryffindor common room one late afternoon, while Ron and Hermione used their time off to play a game of wizard chess.

"For heaven's sake, Harry," said Hermione, exasperated, as one of Ron's bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him off the board. "Go and take a walk. Clear your mind. Get some fresh air.

Heeding her word, Harry walked around the castle, some students staring at castle was darker than it usually was in daytime because of the thick, swirling gray snow at every window. Shivering, Harry walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was happening within. Professor McGonagall was shouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a badger.

A group of the Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbology were indeed sitting at the front of the library, but they didn't seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Harry could see that their heads were close together and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation. He couldn't see whether Justin was among them. He was walking toward them when something of what they were saying met his ears, and he paused to listen, hidden in the Invisibility section.

"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" said a girl with blonde pigtails anxiously.

"Hannah," said the stout boy solemnly, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue. And not to mention that the American girl, she's got to be his servant of some sort."

There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on, "Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Flich's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know - Creevey's been attacked. And even so, Tess is always the rogue one, always mouthing off everyone."

"But why would Tess work with the Heir of Slytherin?" Hannah asked. "I mean someone told me that according to the Sorting Hat, Tess was viable to be put in that House. I don't understand why."

"Well see it this way." Ernie said, his voice oozing with perception. "Tess comes from America, her family comes from American Wizarding background, but who is the one person that Tess has never brought up? Her father." There were gasps of shock and even Harry was struggling to comprehend this theory.

'Come to think of it.' Harry thought. 'Tess never did mention her father.'

"I'm saying this." Ernie continued. "If Tess' father taught her about Slytherin's ways then he must have been working with the Dark Lord, passing the title of servant from parent to child. And now Harry met Tess so he could make her his partner in crime."

"He always seems so nice, though," said Hannah uncertainly, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he? And Tess, she may be a bit harsh but she means well for everyone, even the Slytherins."

Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, and Harry edged nearer so that he could catch Ernie's words.

"Exactly. Tess is friends with them because she must feel at home with the rest of her fellow snakes. No one knows how Harry survived that attack by You-Know-Who though. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that." He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, "That's probably why You- Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding?"

Harry couldn't take anymore. Clearing his throat loudly, he stepped out from behind the bookshelves. If he hadn't been feeling so angry, he would have found the sight that greeted him funny: Every one of the Hufflepuffs looked as though they had been Petrified by the sight of him, and the color was draining out of Ernie's face.

"Hello," said Harry. "I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley."

The Hufepuffs' worst fears had clearly been confirmed. They all looked fearfully at Ernie.

"What do you want with him?" said Ernie in a quavering voice.

"I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Dueling Club," said Harry.

Ernie bit his white lips and then, taking a deep breath, said, "We were all there. We saw what happened."

"Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?" said Harry.

"All I saw," said Ernie stubbornly, though he was trembling as he spoke, "was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake toward Justin. "

"I didn't chase it at him!" Harry said, his voice shaking with anger. "It didn't even touch him!"

"It was a very near miss," said Ernie. "And in case you're getting ideas," he added hastily, "I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone's, so -"

"I don't care what sort of blood you've got!" said Harry fiercely. "Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns?"

"I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with," said Ernie swiftly.

"It's not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them," said Harry. "Id like to see you try it. And just to be clear, Tess is my **friend** not my servant. And whatever happened to Tess' father is **her** business, not yours."

He turned on his heel and stormed away from the library, earning himself a reproving glare from Madam Pince, who was polishing the gilded cover of a large spellbook.

He didn't like that he was being talked as the Heir of Slytherin. He most certainly didn't like Tess being involved even though she stood up for him, like she did with all Slytherins. So with nowhere else to go, he went to the Great Hall where Tess was studying. She may have been a delinquent but she did her best to study and keep her grades good.

He approached the Great Hall, a few other students there, and found Tess at one of the tables.

"Tess?" He asked the blonde American. "Can I ask you something?"

She looked up and said, "Shoot."

Harry sat down and blurted out without a thought, "Who is your father?"

Immediately, Tess stopped in the middle of her packing of her parchment. She felt like she was gonna be sick. "Why do you wanna know that?"

"It's just a question." He said simply.

"Well what's there to talk about?" Tess asked. "I hardly know the guy. All I know is that he went to school here, slept with a bunch of women, got my mom pregnant and died later."

As Tess got up Harry asked, "So you-"

"An illegitimate child." said Tess. "Yeah."

"No." said Harry. "I was gonna ask, you don't even know who your father is?"

Tess' purple eyes met Harry's emerald green ones and after a pregnant pause, said...

"I don't even know his name."


	25. Things Worth Losing Your Dignity For

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Ron told Tess, Harry, and Hermione. "Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays, too. But Harry and Tess were glad that most people were leaving. They were tired of people skirting around him in the corridors, as though he was about to sprout fangs or spit poison; tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as he passed.

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin and the Servant of Slytherin, seriously evil wizards coming through ...

Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.

"It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Harry and Tess are in a hurry."

"Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servantess," said George, chortling.

Ginny didn't find it amusing either.

"Oh, don't," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he was planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward Tess off with a large clove of garlic when they met.

Harry didn't mind; it made him feel better that Fred and George, at least, thought the idea of his being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Draco Malfoy, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.

"It's because he's bursting to say it's really him," said Ron knowingly. "You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything, and you're getting all the credit for his dirty work."

"Not for long," said Hermione in a satisfied tone. "The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready. We'll be getting the truth out of him any day now."

"Mione's right." said Tess. "All we gotta do is wait."

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Harry found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that he, Tess, Hermione, and the Weasleys had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and practice dueling in private. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were put through serious training from Tess on dueling. She had also been teaching them basic hand to hand combat. Fred, George, and Ginny had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Bill in Egypt with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Percy, who disapproved of what he termed their childish behavior, didn't spend much time in the Gryffindor common room. He had already told them pompously that he was only staying over Christmas because it was his duty as a prefect to support the teachers during this troubled time.

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Hermione had to literally pull Tess away from the bed in order to get her up. Harry and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them both.

"Wake up," she said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.

"Hermione - you're not supposed to be in here -" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Hermione, throwing him his present. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

Harry sat up, suddenly wide awake.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," said Hermione, shifting Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Ron's four-poster. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

"She's right." Tess said groggily. "Snaking is best performed under darkness."

"Snaking?" Hermione asked.

"Infiltration within a country or in this case school."

"I hope we're good Birdwatchers though tonight." Ron muttered.

Tess looked at him proudly. "Somebody's been studying on the vocab I assigned."

At that moment, Hedwig swooped into the room, carrying a very small package in her beak.

"Hello," said Harry happily as she landed on his bed. "Are you speaking to me again?"

She nibbled his ear in an affectionate sort of way, which was a far better present than the one that she had brought him, which turned out to be from the Dursleys. They had sent Harry a toothpick and a note telling him to find out whether he'd be able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer vacation, too. The rest of Harry's Christmas presents were far more satisfactory. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle fudge, which Harry decided to soften by the fire before eating; Ron had given him a book called Flying with the Cannons, a book of interesting facts about his favorite Quidditch team, and Hermione had bought him a luxury eagle-feather quill, and Tess gave him comic books on the Green Arrow, which Harry found a little interesting. Harry opened the last present to find a new, hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large plum cake. He read her card with a fresh surge of guilt, thinking about Mr. Weasley's car (which hadn't been seen since its crash with the Whomping Willow), and the bout of rule-breaking he, Tess, and Ron were planning next.

Tess had also gotten presents. Tess couldn't afford to go back anyway but she still got presents. From Harry, she got a book that he ordered from Diagon Alley, History of Aurors. From Ron, a package of Bertie Botts Every Flavor beans, and Hermione a set of Exploding Snap.

No one, not even someone dreading taking Polyjuice Potion later, could fail to enjoy Christmas dinner at Hogwarts.

The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at. Harry didn't even care that Draco Malfoy was making loud, snide remarks about his new sweater from the Slytherin table. He was avoiding Pansy Parkinson, a pug faced Slytherin who was constantly flirting with him. With a bit of luck, Malfoy would be getting his comeuppance in a few hours' time.

Harry and Ron had barely finished their third helpings of Christmas pudding when Hermione and Tess ushered them out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening.

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione matter-of-facdy, as though she were sending them to the supermarket for laundry detergent. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoys best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him."

"How?" Ron asked.

"I've got it all worked out," Tess went smoothly, ignoring Harry's and Ron's stupefied faces. She held up two plump chocolate cakes. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you gots to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're knocked out, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a closet. But don't screw this up, I'm pretty sure I sold my dignity just to get one vial of this stuff."

Harry and Ron looked incredulously at each other.

"Hermione, Tess, I don't think -"

"That could go seriously wrong -"

But Hermione had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one Professor McGonagall sometimes had. Tess' purple eyes were glowing with determination meaning that she was not giving up.

"The potion will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair," Hermione said sternly. "You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?"

"Oh, all right, all right," said Harry. "But what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?"

"I've already got mine!" said Hermione brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. "Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Dueling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me! And she's gone home for Christmas - so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back."

"I've already got mine too." said Tess. "Swiped this the other day in the hallway, ripped it right out of her hair. She nearly had a seizure. Priceless."

When Hermione had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Ron turned to Tess with a doom-laden expression.

"Just curious." He said. "Who exactly gave this to you?"

"Theodore Nott." said Tess nonchalantly. 

"And what exactly did you pay Nott with? Money?"

Tess blanched. "Worse. It was a pair of my panties." Harry looked like he was ready to murder while Ron looked at her disgusted. "It was either that or he would warn Malfoy."

"Please tell me how this is not going to go wrong." Ron asked his friends.


	26. Gruesome Makeovers and Infiltrations

When Tess and Hermione left off, Ron and Harry became honestly worried that the fish wouldn't swallow the bait.

But to their utter amazement, stage one of the operation went just as smoothly as the girls had said. They lurked in the deserted entrance hall after Christmas tea, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle who had remained alone at the Slytherin table, shoveling down fourth helpings of trifle. Harry had perched the chocolate cakes on the end of the banisters. When they spotted Crabbe and Goyle coming out of the Great Hall, Harry and Ron hid quickly behind a suit of armor next to the front door.

"How thick can you get?" Ron whispered ecstatically as Crabbe gleefully pointed out the cakes to Goyle and grabbed them. Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. For a moment, both of them chewed greedily, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backward onto the floor.

By far the hardest part was hiding them in the closet across the hall. Once they were safely stowed among the buckets and mops, Harry yanked out a couple of the bristles that covered Goyle's forehead and Ron pulled out several of Crabbe's hairs. They also stole their shoes, because their own were far too small for Crabbe- and Goyle-size feet. Then, still stunned at what they had just done, they sprinted up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

They could hardly see for the thick black smoke issuing from the stall in which Hermione was stirring the cauldron. Pulling their robes up over their faces, Harry and Ron knocked softly on the door.

"Hermione?"

They heard the scrape of the lock and Hermione emerged, shiny- faced and looking anxious. Behind her they heard the 'gloop gloop 'of the bubbling, glutinous potion. Three glass tumblers stood ready on the toilet seat.

"Did you get them?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

Harry showed her Goyle's hair.

"Good. I stole these spare robes out of the wash," Tess said, holding up a small sack. "You're gonna need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle. The three of them stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.

"I'm sure I've done everything right," said Hermione, nervously rereading the splotched page of Moste Potente Potions. "It looks like the book says it should ... once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."

"Now what?" Ron whispered.

"We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs."

Tess looked at the hair she was clutching with her fingers and then at the dark murky potion. "I'm probably gonna need therapy after this." 

Hermione ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hand trembling, she shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle into the first glass.

The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow.

"Urgh - essence of Millicent Bulstrode," said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting."

"Add yours, then," said Hermione.

Harry dropped Goyle's hair into the middle glass and Ron put Crabbe's into the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle's turned the khaki color of a booger, Crabbe's a dark, murky brown. Tess dropped hers in and it turned into the color of mud brown and smelled like rotten eggs.

"Hang on," said Harry as Ron, Tess, and Hermione reached for their glasses. "We'd better not all drink them in here ... Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie.

"Good thinking," said Ron, unlocking the door. "We'll take separate stalls."

Careful not to spill a drop of his Polyjuice Potion, Harry slipped into the middle stall.

"Ready?" he called.

"Ready," came Ron, Tess' and Hermione's voices.

"One - two - three -"

Pinching her nose, Tess drank the potion down in two large gulps. For her, if vomit had a cousin, it would be this.

Immediately, her insides started writhing as though she'd just swallowed live snakes - doubled up, she knew she was probably going to be sick - then a burning sensation spread rapidly from her stomach to the top of her head, then the very end of her fingers and toes - next, bringing her grunting, while holding onto the stall walls for support, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over her body bubbled like hot wax - and in a split second, her nose started to grow longer, her blond hair became short, flat and dull brown and her face seized up. As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Tess was still clinging onto the borders of the stall as the pain eased.

"Oh." said Myrtle circling around her. "Changing your appearance? Now you know how I feel!"

"Go shove your head down a toilet." Tess mumbled.

"Are you three okay?" Goyle's low rasp of a voice issued from a stall.

"Yeah," came the deep grunt of Crabbe from another.

Tess opened her door and saw not her friends but her "fellow" Slytherins. They stared at each other. Except that he looked pale and shocked, Ron was indistinguishable from Crabbe, from the pudding-bowl haircut to the long, gorilla arms. If it wasn't for the fact that "Goyle" was wearing Harry's glasses, Tess might have forgotten that it was Harry, literally wearing Goyle's face.

"This is unbelievable," said Ron, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe's flat nose. "Unbelievable. "

"We'd better get going," said Harry, loosening the watch that was cutting into Goyle's thick wrist. "We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow. . ."

"First things first." said Tess, removing Harry's glasses. "There. All good."

Ron, who had been gazing at Harry, said, "You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle thinking." He banged on Hermione's door. "C'mon, we need to go -"

A high-pitched voice answered him.

"I - I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."

"Hermione, we know Millicent Bullstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you -"

"No - really - I don't think I'll come. You three hurry up, you're wasting time."

Harry looked at Ron, bewildered.

"That looks more like Goyle," said Ron. "That's how he looks every time a teacher asks him a question."

"Hermione, you okay?" asked Tess through the door.

"Fine - I'm fine - go on -"

Harry looked at his watch. Five of their precious sixty minutes had already passed. "We'll meet you back here, all right?" he said.

Harry, Tess, and Ron opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear, and set off.

"Don't swing your arms like that," Harry muttered to Ron.

"Eh?"

"Crabbe holds them sort of stiff . . . ."

"How's this?"

"Yeah, that's better . . . . Remember this guys, we only have 55 minutes left, so we get in, get the info, and get out." They went down the marble staircase. All they needed now was a Slytherin that they could follow to the Slytherin common room, but there was nobody around.

"Any ideas?" muttered Harry.

"The Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there," said Ron, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. The words had barely left his mouth when a girl with long, curly hair emerged from the entrance.

"Excuse me," said Ron, hurrying up to her. "We've forgotten the way to our common room."

"I beg your pardon?" said the girl stiffly. "Our common room? I'm a Ravenclaw."

She walked away, looking suspiciously back at them.

Tess looked at them like they were stupid, as she, Harry, and Ron hurried down the stone steps into the darkness, their footsteps echoing particularly loudly as Crabbe's and Goyle's huge feet hit the floor, feeling that this wasn't going to be as easy as they had hoped. For Tess, it was a good thing Pansy always minded her weight.

The labyrinthine passages were deserted. They walked deeper and deeper under the school, constantly checking their watches to see how much time they had left. After a quarter of an hour, just when they were getting desperate, they heard a sudden movement ahead.

"Ha!" said Ron excitedly. "There's one of them now!"

The figure was emerging from a side room. As they hurried nearer, however, their hearts sank. It wasn't a Slytherin, it was Percy.

"Watch and see how it's done boys." Tess whispered before asking in a surprisingly good British accent, "What're you doing down here, Prissy?"

Percy looked affronted.

"That," he said stiffly, "is none of your business. It's Pansy, isn't it?"

"Yes" said 'Pansy'.

"Well, get off to your dormitories," said Percy sternly. "It's not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days."

"You are," Ron pointed out.

"I," said Percy, drawing himself up, "am a prefect. Nothing's about to attack me."

A voice suddenly echoed behind Tess Harry and Ron. Draco Malfoy was strolling toward them, and for the first time in his life, Harry was pleased to see him.

"There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny."

'Ok, I'm definitely gonna need therapy after this.' Tess thought to herself before launching her performance. "Oh Drakey Poo!" Tess cried out in fake but convincing affection, as Pansy was known for having a large crush on Malfoy. "How have you been?"

"Evening to you Pansy." He said trying not to be repulsed.

Malfoy glanced witheringly at Percy.

"And what're you doing down here, Weasley?" he sneered.

Percy looked outraged.

"You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!" he said. "I don't like your attitude!"

Malfoy sneered and motioned for Harry and Ron to follow him, with 'Pansy' holding onto his arm. Harry almost said something apologetic to Percy but caught himself just in time. He and Ron hurried after Malfoy, who said as they turned into the next passage, "That Peter Weasley -"

"Percy," Ron corrected him automatically.

"Whatever," said Malfoy. "I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed."

"What an bloody egotist." 'Pansy' muttered.

He gave a short, derisive laugh. Harry and Ron exchanged excited looks.

Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"What's the new password again?" he said to Harry.

"Er -" said Harry.

"Oh, yeah -pure-blood!" said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and Tess and Harry and Ron followed him.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

"Wait here," said Malfoy to Tess, Harry and Ron, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it my father's just sent it to me -"

Wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, Harry and Ron sat down, doing their best to look at home. Tess, however was a natural, sitting in the chair and checking her reflection.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Ron's nose.

"That'll give you a laugh," he said.

Harry saw Ron's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Harry.

It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet, and it said:

INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car. Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.

"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.

"Well?" said Malfoy impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Harry bleakly.

"I admire your sense of humor Drake." Tess said giving her best smile. "Your mother would be so pleased."

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."

Ron's - or rather, Crabbe's - face was contorted with fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy.

"Stomachache," Ron grunted seeing Tess' raised eyebrow.

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering.

"You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," said Tess thoughtfully, twirling her flat hair. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon.

"Well Pansy, Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in." Draco said proudly.

"I agree." said Tess. "That Colin kid hasn't even passed his final exams and he's making me wish I performed a curse on him, but I can't possibly risk looking bad in this school."

Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin: "'Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?"'

He dropped his hands and looked at Harry and Ron. Tess was pretending to be struggling to breathe in her laughter.

"What's the matter with you two?"

Far too late, Harry and Ron forced themselves to laugh, but Malfoy seemed satisfied; perhaps Crabbe and Goyle were always slow on the uptake.

"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," said Malfoy slowly. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood."

" And people think he's Slytherin's heir!" Tess barked. "He doesn't even have the stomach to hurt a fly!"

Harry and Ron waited with bated breath: Malfoy was surely seconds away from telling them it was him - but then

"I wish I knew who it is," said Malfoy petulantly. "I could help them."

Ron's jaw dropped so that Crabbe looked even more clueless than usual. Fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice, and Harry, thinking fast, said, "You must have some idea who's behind it all ...

"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Malfoy. "And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing - last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time ... I hope it's Granger," he said with relish.

Ron was clenching Crabbe's gigantic fists. Feeling that it would be a bit of a giveaway if Ron punched Malfoy, Tess shot him a warning look and said, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?"

"Oh, yeah ... whoever it was was expelled," said Malfoy. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" said Harry, puzzled.

"Azkaban - the wizard prison, Goyle," said Malfoy, looking at him in disbelief "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward."

He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"

Harry tried to force Goyle's dull face into a look of concern. "How awful! Tess cried out. "No sense of decency, there." 

"Yeah. . ." said Malfoy. "Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor -"

"Ho!" said Ron.

Malfoy looked at him. So did Harry. Ron blushed. Even his hair was turning red. His nose was also slowly lengthening - their hour was up, Ron was turning back into himself, and from the look of horror he was suddenly giving Harry, he must be, too. Tess eyes were slowly turning from beady brown to bright purple.

They all jumped to their feet.

"Medicine for my stomach," Ron grunted, and without further ado they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malfoy hadn't noticed anything. Harry could feel his feet slipping around in Goyle's huge shoes and had to hoist up his robes as he shrank; they crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the closet where they'd locked Crabbe and Goyle. Leaving their shoes outside the closet door, they sprinted in their socks up the marble staircase toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys' drawing room."

"Yeah, there's the headline." Tess retorted sarcastically.

Harry checked his face in the cracked mirror. He was back to normal. He put his glasses on as Ron hammered on the door of Hermione's stall.

"Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you -"

"Go away!" Hermione squeaked.

Harry, Tess, and Ron looked at each other.

"What's the matter?" said Ron. "You must be back to normal by now, we are

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Harry had never seen her looking so happy.

"Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said. "It's awful."

They heard the lock slide back and Hermione opened the door so it was ajar. "Hermione?" Harry asked. "Are you ok?"

"What's up?" said Ron uncertainly. "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"

"Um, Hermione?" Tess asked with concern. "What exactly did you put in the potion?"

"D-do you remember me telling you?" Hermione weeped out. "That the potion was made for human transformations?" She came out into the light showing what happened to face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair.

"Oh Dear God." Tess could only say.

"It was a c-cat hair!" she howled. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

"You'll be teased something dreadful," said Myrtle happily.

"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry quickly. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions ..."


	27. Harry and Ron find a Diary?

It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way with a hearty guffaw. "Wait till everyone finds out you've got a tail!"

Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumor about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because of course everyone thought that she had been attacked. So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey took out her curtains again and placed them around Hermione's bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face.

Harry, Tess, and Ron went to visit her every evening. When the new term started, they brought her each day's homework.

"If Id sprouted whiskers, Id take a break from work," said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening. Tess hummed in agreement.

"Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up," said Hermione briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown. "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?" she added in a whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear her.

"Nothing," said Harry gloomily.

"I was so sure it was Malfoy," said Ron, for about the hundredth time.

"You blame everything on Malfoy." said Tess.

"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.

"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud:

"To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most- Charming-Smile Award. "

Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted.

"You sleep with this under your pillow?"

But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.

"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said to Harry as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. Snape had given them so much homework, Harry thought he was likely to be in the sixth year before he finished it. Ron was just saying he wished he had asked Hermione how many rat tails you were supposed to add to a Hair Raising Potion when an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears. Tess couldn't be around that time to say something sassy because she was helping a Hufflepuff first year with his Transfiguration homework

"That's Filch," Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely.

They stood still, their heads inclined toward Flich's voice, which sounded quite hysterical.

"Even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore -"

His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam.

They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"Now what's up with her?" said Ron.

"Let's go and see," said Harry, and holding their robes over their ankles they stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its OUT OF ORDER sign, ignored it as always, and entered.

Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.

"What's up, Myrtle?" said Harry.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Harry waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me ...

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Harry, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Sure! Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!"

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Harry.

"I don't know... I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them. "It's over there, it got washed out ...

Harry and Ron looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Harry stepped forward to pick it up, but Ron suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.

"What?" said Harry.

"Are you crazy?" said Ron. "It could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?"said Harry, laughing. "Come off it, how could it be dangerous?"

"You'd be surprised," said Ron, who was looking apprehensively at the book. "Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated Dad's told me - there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And -"

"All right, I've got the point," said Harry.

The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy.

"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," he said, and he ducked around Ron and picked it up off the floor.

Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even Auntie Mabel's birthday, or dentist, half-past three.

"He never wrote in it," said Harry, disappointed.

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?" said Ron curiously.

Harry turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London.

"He must've been Muggle-born," said Harry thoughtfufly. "To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road ...

"Well, it's not much use to you," said Ron. He dropped his voice. "Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle's nose."

Harry, however, pocketed it.


	28. Who The Hell is Tom Riddle?

"I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it," said Harry on his way with Ron to the Hospital Wing. They made it there to find Tess talking with Hermione.

"Guys." Ron said, getting their attention. "We found something. Hermione, think you might want to take a look at it?"

"Bring it here." Tess ordered them. The two boys sitting on the bed, Hermione took a minute to inspect it. Tess observed it from being next to the brunette. "It looks like some plain old diary."

"There's a name though." Hermione said reading the back. "Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Wait." said Ron. "Tom Marvolo Riddle. I know that name. Why do I know that name...of course! I remember, that night we had detention. My job was to polish the silver in the trophy room. And I remember, I kept burping slugs on Riddle's trophy."

"What was the trophy for?" Harry asked curiously.

"He won the award." said Ron handing back the diary. "50 years ago, special services to the school or something."

But Harry could tell from the arrested look on Tess and Hermione's face that she was thinking what he was thinking.

"What?" said Ron, looking from one to the other.

"50 years ago, are you sure?" asked Tess.

"Don't tell me you wouldn't know an award if  **you** kept burping up slug slime on it." Ron said sarcastically at the American.

"Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened last time fifty years ago, wasn't it?" Harry said. "That's what Malfoy said."

"Yeah. . ." said Ron slowly.

"And this diary is fifty years old," said Hermione, tapping it excitedly.

"And if Tom had this diary in that time, then that means-" Harry was cut off by Tess.

"Tom Riddle was here at Hogwarts when it happened. He must have seen  **something**  suspicious at least."

"Well, what if Riddle wrote about it?" Hermione asked. "His diary would probably tell us everything - where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it - the person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?"

"That's a brilliant theory, Hermione," said Tess, "with just one eensy-weensy-yet-ever-so-crucial tiny detail." She laid out the empty pages. "The whole thing's blank."

But Hermione was pulling her wand out of her bag.

"It might be invisible ink!" she whispered.

She tapped the diary three times and said, "Aparecium!"

Nothing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand back into her bag and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser.

"It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley," she said.

She rubbed hard on January first. Nothing happened.

"I'm telling you Tess is right, there's nothing to find in there," said Ron. "Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."

Harry couldn't explain, even to himself, why he didn't just throw Riddle's diary away? The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he'd had when he was very small, and had half forgotten. But this was absurd. He'd never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.


	29. A New Suspect

"There you are," Harry said, running to Tess at breakfast with Ron the next morning. Both boys looked scared to death.

"Where's the fire?" asked Tess, looking at him with concern.

"It was Hagrid. Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago."

Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione had always known that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. During their first year at Hogwarts he had tried to raise a dragon in his little wooden house, and it would be a long time before they forgot the giant, three- headed dog he'd christened "Fluffy." And if, as a boy, Hagrid had heard that a monster was hidden somewhere in the castle, Harry was sure he'd have gone to any lengths for a glimpse of it. He'd probably thought it was a shame that the monster had been cooped up so long, and thought it deserved the chance to stretch its many legs; Harry could just imagine the thirteen-year-old Hagrid trying to fit a leash and collar on it. But he was equally certain that Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody.

Harry half wished he hadn't found out how to work Riddle's diary. Again and again Ron and Hermione and Tess made him recount what he'd seen, until he was heartily sick of telling them and sick of the long, circular conversations that followed.

"Riddle might have got the wrong person," said Hermione. "Maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people . . . ."

"Do you know anyone else who's got an affinity for giant animals that have sharp parts in their mouth?" Tess asked sarcastically.

"How many monsters d'you think this place can hold?" Ron asked.

"We always knew Hagrid had been expelled," said Harry miserably. "And the attacks must've stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn't have got his award."

Ron tried a different tactic. "Riddle does sound like Percy - who asked him to squeal on Hagrid, anyway?"

"But someone died in the school." said Tess. "Which by the way is so my last choice of places to die."

"And Riddle was going to go back to some Muggle orphanage if they closed Hogwarts," said Harry. "I don't blame him for wanting to stay here ..."

"You met Hagrid down Knockturn Alley, didn't you, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"He was buying a Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent," said Harry quickly.

The four of them fell silent. After a long pause, Hermione voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice.

"Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?"

"That'd be a cheerful visit," said Ron. "'Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?"'

In the end, they decided that they would not say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, they became hopeful that they would never need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. It was now nearly four months since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. Peeves had finally got bored of his "Oh, Potter, you rotter" song, Ernie Macmillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy. Some of the first years had also stopped fearing Tess.

"The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," she told Harry. "Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing."

The second years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione, at least, took very seriously.

"It could affect our whole future," she told Tess, Harry and Ron as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.

"I just want to give up Potions," said Harry.

"We can't," said Ron gloomily. "We keep all our old subjects, or I'd've ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"But that's very important!" said Hermione, shocked.

"Not the way Lockhart teaches it," said Tess. "Only thing I've learned from that all year is how to set pixies loose. I almost now hate Tinkerbell."

Neville Longbottom had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than the study of Ancient Runes. Dean Thomas, who, like Harry, had grown up with Muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on. Hermione took nobody's advice but signed up for everything. Tess just picked the ones that made sense to her. In America, by the time they got to 4th year or the middle of junior term, they picked electives. She didn't even sign up for Muggle Studies because since 1965, wizards in the country had lived both magical and non-magical lives while keeping themselves secret from the No-Maj or Muggle population.

Harry smiled grimly to himself at the thought of what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would say if he tried to discuss his career in wizardry with them. Not that he didn't get any guidance: Percy Weasley was eager to share his experience.

"Depends where you want to go, Harry," he said. "It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studies is a soft option, but I personally think wizards should have a thorough understanding of the non-magical community, particularly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them - look at my father, he has to deal with Muggle business all the time. My brother Charlie was always more of an outdoor type, so he went for Care of Magical Creatures. Play to your strengths, Harry."

But the only thing Harry felt he was really good at was Quidditch. In the end, he chose the same new subjects as Ron, feeling that if he was lousy at them, at least he'd have someone friendly to help him.

Gryffindor's next Quidditch match would be against Hufflepuff. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Tess and Harry barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and the evening before Saturday's match he went up to his dormitory to drop off his broomstick feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch cup had never been better.

But neither cheerful moods lasted long. At the top of the stairs to the dormitory, he met Neville Longbottom, who was looking frantic.

"Harry - I don't know who did it - I just found -"

Watching Harry and Tess fearfully, Neville pushed open the door.

The contents of Harry's trunk had been thrown everywhere. His cloak lay ripped on the floor. The bedclothes had been pulled off his four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of his bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress.

Harry walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, treading on a few loose pages of Travels with Trolls. As he and Neville pulled the blankets back onto his bed, Ron, Dean, and Seamus came in. Dean swore loudly.

"What happened, Harry?"

"No idea," said Harry. But Ron was examining Harry's robes. All the pockets were hanging out.

"It had to have been a Gryffindor." said Tess. "No one else knows our password."

"Someone's been looking for something," said Ron. "Is there anything missing?"

Harry started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk. It was only as he threw the last of the Lockhart books back into it that he realized what wasn't there.

"Whoever it was, got lucky." he said in an undertone to Ron and Tess. "Tom Riddle's Diary is gone."


	30. We Lose a Comrade

They woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Wood enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. "Harry, buck up there, you need a decent breakfast."

Harry had been staring down the packed Gryffindor table, wondering if the new owner of Riddle's diary was right in front of his eyes. Hermione had been urging him to report the robbery, but Harry didn't like the idea. He'd have to tell a teacher all about the diary, and how many people knew why Hagrid had been expelled fifty years ago? He didn't want to be the one who brought it all up again.

Tess made Harry swear not to report anything from the Chamber Case. She threatened him by going to Lockhart to get him an autograph, which of course did the trick.

As he left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione to go and collect his Quidditch things, another very serious worry was added to Harry's growing list. He had just set foot on the marble staircase when he heard it yet again

"Kill this time ... let me rip ... tear. . ."

He shouted aloud and Ron and Hermione both jumped away from him in alarm.

"The voice!" said Harry, -looking over his shoulder. "I just heard it again - didn't you?"

Ron shook his head, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead.

"Harry - I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!"

And she sprinted away, up the stairs.

"What does she understand?" said Harry distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

"Well she knows loads more than I do," said Ron, shaking his head.

"But why's she got to go to the library?" Harry asked.

"Because that's what Hermione does," said Ron, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library."

Harry stood, irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind him, talking loudly, exiting through the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch.

"You'd better get moving," said Tess hurrying up to him in Quidditch robes. "It's nearly eleven - the match - "

Harry raced up to Gryffindor Tower, collected his Nimbus Two Thousand, and joined the large crowd swarming across the grounds, but his mind was still in the castle along with the bodiless voice, and as he pulled on his scarlet robes in the locker. room, his only comfort was that everyone was now outside to watch the game.

The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. Tess joined Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goal posts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics.

Harry was just mounting his broom when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

Harry's heart dropped like a stone.

"This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick.

"But, Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play - the cup Gryffindor -"

Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone:

"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned Harry and Tess over to her.

"Potter, Crosswell, I think you two better come with me ...

Wondering how she could possibly suspect them this time, Harry and Tess saw Ron detach himself from the complaining crowd; he came running up to them as they set off toward the castle. To Harry's surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't object.

"Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley ...

"What's the hold up Teach?" Tess asked.

"It's best if I show you three." She said sadly.

Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried. Harry, Tess. and Ron followed Professor McGonagall back into the school and up the marble staircase. But they weren't taken to anybody's office this time.

"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. "There has been another attack ... another double attack."

Harry's insides did a horrible somersault and Tess was dreading the worst because she had noticed that Hermione wasn't with them. Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and the trio of wizards entered.

Madam Pomfrey was bending over a fifth-year girl with long, curly hair. Harry recognized her as the Ravenclaw they'd accidentally asked for directions to the Slytherin common room. And on the bed next to her, confirming Tess' fears, was none other than,

"Hermione!" Ron groaned while Tess gasped and clamped a hand to her mouth.

Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy.

"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't suppose one of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them ...

She was holding up a small, circular mirror.

Harry, Tess and Ron shook their heads, all staring at Hermione.

"I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall heavily. "I need to address the students anyway."

When she escorted them back, the entire House was packed in there. "Could I have your attention please?" McGonagall asked, everyone quieting in respect. "Because of recent events, these events must be taken in effect immediately." She opened a scroll and read from it. "All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities. No exceptions."

The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Professor McGonagall in silence. She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately.

"That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff, " said the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers. "Haven't any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin - why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

Percy Weasley was sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn't seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned.

"Percy's in shock," George told Harry quietly. "That Ravenclaw girl - Penelope Clearwater - she's a prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a prefect."

But Tess was not even listening. She didn't seem to be able to get rid of the picture of Hermione, lying on the hospital bed as though carved out of stone. And if the culprit wasn't caught soon, she was looking at a lifetime of never seeing her friends again. Money was tight enough and if she were to be sent back, the chances of her going to school were almost next to nothing. And that was with paying for Johnnie's tuition. Then again, maybe she could use her Gringotts money to go to school, at least for the next year and a half. Tom Riddle had turned Hagrid in because he was faced with the prospect of a Muggle orphanage if the school closed. Tess now knew somewhat how he had felt from what Harry told her. She did have her aunt and cousin but she still would like to have at least one parent around.

"What're we going to do?" said Ron quietly in Harry's ear. "D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"

"We've got to go and talk to him," said Harry, making up his mind. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."

"But you heard McGonagall." Ron reminded him ."We're not allowed to leave the tower unless we're in class -"

Harry looked around and spoke quietly, "I think it's time to get my dad's old cloak out again."


	31. A Spider's Web of a Story

Harry had inherited just one thing from his father: a long and silvery Invisibility Cloak. It was their only chance of sneaking out of the school to visit Hagrid without anyone knowing about it. The remaining of the Golden Quartet went to bed at the usual time, waited until Neville, Dean, and Seamus had stopped discussing the Chamber of Secrets and finally fallen asleep, then got up, dressed again, and threw the cloak over themselves. 

Tess had gotten dressed in black clothing, leather jacket, arm bracers with hidden knives plus her wand and her belt that held her concealable katana. Since there was a monster loose in the castle, she needed to be ready for anything. The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn't enjoyable. Harry, who had wandered the castle at night several times before, had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers,prefects, and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cloak didn't stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot where Snape stood standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezed at almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that they reached the oak front doors and eased them open.

It was a clear, starry night. They hurried toward the lit windows of Hagrid's house and pulled off the cloak only when they were right outside his front door.

Seconds after they had knocked, Hagrid flung it open. They found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him.

"Oh," he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. "What're you three doin' here?"

"What's that for?" said Harry, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.

"Self defense." Tess snapped, before sticking her tongue out as she said, "Duh."

"Nothin' - nothin' - " Hagrid muttered. "I've bin expectin' doesn' matter - Sit down - I'll make tea -"

He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand. Tess moved up to stop him from shaking by holding his hand.

"It's cool man." She said. "Chill." This seemed to

"Are you okay, Hagrid?" said Harry. "Did you hear about Hermione?"

"Oh, I heard, all righ'," said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice.

He kept glancing nervously at the windows. He poured them both large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add tea bags) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when Harry spoke up.

"Hagrid we need to ask you something. Do you know who's opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. Harry, Tess, and Ron exchanged panicstricken looks, then threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and retreated into a corner. Hagrid checked that they were hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.

"Good evening, Hagrid."

It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd-looking man.

The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime-green bowler.

"That's Dad's boss!" Ron breathed. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!"

Tess elbowed Ron hard to make him shut up.

Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge.

"Bad business, Hagrid," said Fudge in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"I never," said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir -"

"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," said Dumbledore, frowning at Fudge.

"Look, Albus," said Fudge, uncomfortably. "Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something - the school governors have been in touch -"

"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were full of a fire Harry had never seen before.

"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty -"

"Take me?" said Hagrid, who was trembling. "Take me where?"

"For a short stretch only," said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology -"

"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid.

Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.

Dumbledore answered it. It was Tess' turn for an elbow in the ribs; he'd let out an audible gasp.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.

"Already here, Fudge." he said approvingly. "Good, good. . ."

"What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your - er - d'you call this a house?" said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" said Dumbledore. He spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his blue eyes.

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension - you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius," said Fudge, looking alarmed, "Dumbledore suspended - no, no - last thing we want just now."

"The appointment - or suspension - of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy smoothly. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks -"

"See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them," said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, "I mean to say, who can?"

"That remains to be seen," said Mr. Malfoy with a nasty smile. "But as all twelve of us have voted -"

Hagrid leapt to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling.

'An' how many did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" he roared.

"Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid," said Mr. Malfoy. "I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" yelled Hagrid, making Fang the boarhound cower and whimper in his basket. "Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," said Dumbledore sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy.

"If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside -"

"But -" stuttered Fudge.

"No!"growled Hagrid.

Dumbledore had not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy's cold gray ones.

"However," said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, "you will find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." His twinkling at the exact spot the young wizards were as if he could see them. Lucius stared at that direction and turned away out of the house with Dumbledore following him. Hagrid stayed behind for a minute.

"If anyone were looking for something, then all they need ter do would follow the spiders. That's all I have to say." And then he left, reminding out loud that someone would need to feed Fang while he was away.

When the coast was clear, the cloak came off.

"Hagrid's right." Ron said worried. "With Dumbledore gone, they'll be an attack a day!"

"Well we're gonna have to hold off until he gets back." said Tess. "Until then, we stick with Hagrid's order."

"What order?" Ron asked but Harry seemed to catch on.

"Come on." He told the other two.

They went outside and Harry grabbed the lantern hanging outside, shining it everywhere. He stopped swinging it when he found spiders crawling together in single formation heading towards the dark and gloomy Dark Forest.

"Come on." He said.

"What?" Ron squaked out from being freaked out at the sight of spiders.

"Ain't ya been listening?" Tess asked. "Follow the spiders, that's what Hagrid said!"

"But they're heading into the dark forest!" Ron shrieked. Harry ignored him and went on with Tess following. "Why spiders? Why couldn't it be follow the butterflies?" Tess laughed at this a little. Oh yes, she was going to have a fun time enjoying Ron's panic at spiders.

So they followed the darting shadows of the spiders into the trees. They couldn't move very quickly now; there were tree roots and stumps in their way, barely visible in the near blackness. Harry could feel Fang's hot breath on his hand. More than once, they had to stop, so that Harry could crouch down and find the spiders in the light.

They walked for what seemed like at least half an hour. After a while, they noticed that the ground seemed to be sloping downward, through the trees were as thick as ever.

"Harry can we go home now?" Ron squeaked. Tess just laughed at him. "It's not funny!"

"No but your face is!" She said giggling.

"Come on." Harry said. "And no fighting you two." They continued into this dark and misty hollow, surrounded by thick warped twisted branches and roots.

"There's something moving over there," Harry breathed. "Listen ... sounds like something big ...

They listened. Some distance to their right, the something big was snapping branches as it carved a path through the trees.

"Oh, no," said Ron in a high pitched voice. "Oh, no, oh, no, oh -"

"Shut up," said Harry frantically. "It'll hear you."

"Hear me?" said Ron in an unnaturally high voice. "It's already heard our breathing! I told you this was a bad idea!"

"Well at least you're alive for now." Tess joked.

The darkness seemed to be pressing on their eyeballs as they stood, terrified, waiting. There was a strange rumbling noise and then silence.

"What d'you think it's doing?" said Harry.

"Probably getting ready to pounce," said Ron.

They waited, shivering, hardly daring to move.

"D'you think it's gone?" Harry whispered.

"Dunno -"

Then, to their right, came a sudden blaze of light, so bright in the darkness that both of them flung up their hands to shield their eyes.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, his voice breaking with relief "Harry, it's our car!"

"What?"

"Come on!"

Harry blundered after Tess Ron toward the light, stumbling and tripping, and a moment later they had emerged into a clearing.

Mr. Weasley's car was standing, empty, in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof of dense branches, its headlights ablaze. As Ron walked, open-mouthed, toward it, it moved slowly toward him, exactly like a large, turquoise dog greeting its owner.

"It's been here all the time!" said Tess delightedly, walking around the car. "Look at it. The forest's turned it wild . . . .It's like I'm looking at the UK version of Stephen King's Christine."

The sides of the car were scratched and smeared with mud. Apparently it had taken to trundling around the forest on its own. His breathing slowing down again, Harry stuffed his wand back into his pocket

"And we thought it was going to attack us!" said Ron, leaning against the car and patting it. "I wondered where it had gone!"

Harry squinted around on the floodlit ground for signs of more spiders, but they had all scuttled away from the glare of the headlights.

"We've lost the trail," he said. "C'mon, let's go and find them."

Ron didn't speak. He didn't move. His eyes were fixed on a point some ten feet above the forest floor, right behind Harry. His face was livid with terror.

"Harry we didn't lose the trail." Tess said now a little scared. "It found us, and it's big and hairy."

Harry didn't even have time to turn around. There was a loud clicking noise and suddenly he felt something long and hairy seize him around the middle and lift him off the ground, so that he was hanging facedown. Struggling, terrified, he heard more clicking, and saw Ron's legs leave the ground, too, heard Fang whimpering and howling - next moment, he was being swept away into the dark trees.

Head hanging, Harry saw that what had hold of him was marching on six immensely long, hairy legs, the front two clutching him tightly below a pair of shining black pincers. Behind him, he could hear another of the creatures, no doubt carrying Ron. They were moving into the very heart of the forest. Harry could hear Tess fighting to free himself from a third monster, whining loudly, but Harry couldn't have yelled even if he had wanted to; he seemed to have left his voice back with the car in the clearing.

He never knew how long he was in the creature's clutches; he only knew that the darkness suddenly lifted enough for him to see that the leaf-strewn ground was now swarming with spiders. Craning his neck sideways, he realized that they had reached the ridge of a vast hollow, a hollow that had been cleared of trees, so that the stars shone brightly onto the worst scene he had ever laid eyes on.

Spiders. Not tiny spiders like those surging over the leaves below. Spiders the size of carthorses, eight-eyed, eight-legged, black, hairy, gigantic. The massive specimen that was carrying Harry made its way down the steep slope toward a misty, domed web in the very center of the hollow, while its fellows closed in all around it, clicking their pincers excitedly at the sight of its load.

Harry fell to the ground on all fours as the spider released him. Ron and Fang thudded down next to him. Fang wasn't howling anymore, but cowering silently on the spot. Ron looked exactly like Harry felt. His mouth was stretched wide in a kind of silent scream and his eyes were popping.

Tess knew a little how Ron felt but just for precaution, she whipped out her wand, ready to defend herself. But she and the others were in the heart of the den, so they couldn't risk becoming food on the web.

Harry suddenly realized that the spider that had dropped him was saying something. It had been hard to tell, because he clicked his pincers with every word he spoke.

"Aragog!" it called. "Aragog!"

And from the middle of the misty, domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very slowly. There was gray in the black of his body and legs, and each of the eyes on his ugly, pincered head was milky white. He was blind.

"What is it?" he said, clicking his pincers rapidly.

"Men," clicked the spider who had caught Harry.

"Is it Hagrid?" said Aragog, moving closer, his eight milky eyes wandering vaguely.

"Strangers," clicked the spider who had brought Ron.

"Kill them," clicked Aragog fretfully. "I was sleeping ...

"We're friends of Hagrid's," Harry shouted. His heart seemed to have left his chest to pound in his throat.

Click, click, click went the pincers of the spiders all around the hollow.

Aragog paused.

"Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before," he said slowly.

"Hagrid's in trouble," said Harry, breathing very fast. "That's why we've come."

"In trouble?" said the aged spider, and Harry thought he heard concern beneath the clicking pincers. "But why has he sent you?"

Harry thought of getting to his feet but decided against it; he didn't think his legs would support him. So he spoke from the ground, as calmly as he could.

"There have been attacks on students." Tess said bravely. "Four so far but they think it's Hagrid, because of his record....they've taken him to Azkaban."

Aragog clicked his pincers furiously, and all around the hollow the sound was echoed by the crowd of spiders; it was like applause, except applause didn't usually make Harry feel sick with fear.

"But that was years ago," said Aragog fretfully. "Years and years ago. I remember it well. That's why they made him leave the school. They believed that I was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free. But it was never him"

"So it wasn't you? You didn't come from the Chamber of Secrets?" said Harry, who could feel cold sweat on his forehead.

"I!" said Aragog, clicking angrily. "I was not born in the castle. I come from a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me, hidden in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me on scraps from the table. Hagrid is my good friend, and a good man. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me. I have lived here in the forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me. He even found me a wife, Mosag, and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid's goodness ...

Harry summoned what remained of his courage.

"So you never - never attacked anyone?"

"Never," croaked the old spider. "It would have been my instinct, but out of respect for Hagrid, I never harmed a human. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up. Our kind like the dark and the quiet ..."

"But then do you know what did kill that girl?" said Tess. "Because whatever it is, it's back and attacking people again -"

His words were drowned by a loud outbreak of clicking and the rustling of many long legs shifting angrily; large black shapes shifted all around him.

"The thing that lives in the castle," said Aragog, "is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school."

"What is it?" said Harry urgently.

More loud clicking, more rustling; the spiders seemed to be closing in.

"We do not speak of it!" said Aragog fiercely. "We do not name it! I never even told Hagrid the name of that dread creature, though he asked me, many times."

"Harry?" Ron asked high pitched, pointing to the sky. Thousands of spiders rolled down pressing closer to them.

Harry didn't want to press the subject, not with the spiders pressing closer on all sides. Aragog seemed to be tired of tamng. He was backing slowly into his domed web, but his fellow spiders continued to inch slowly toward Harry and Ron.

"Thank you. We'll just go, then," Harry called desperately to Aragog, hearing leaves rustling behind him.

"Go?" said Aragog slowly. "I think not ...

"But - but -"

"My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Good-bye, friend of Hagrid."

"Can we panic now?"

Harry spun around. Feet away, towering above him, was a solid wall of spiders, clicking, their many eyes gleaming in their ugly blackheads.

One leaped at Tess, who had already had her sword drawn out and her wand stored in her boot, but she stuck her blade through the creature. Hoping it would make them fear her, the spiders ironically kept charging at her. Harry looked at her like she was stupid.

"Ok." She said. "Maybe killing one of them  **was**  a bad idea."

Harry swung his lanturn before relying on his wand and the three wizards stood, armed with wand and in Tess' case, katana. She held it with both hands ready to defend her friends.

"Ron tell me you're not pissing your pants right now." She warned him.

"Know any spells?" Ron asked.

"One." Harry answered. "But it's not powerful for all of them."

"Where's Hermione when you need her?" Ron sqeaked.

"Come on!" Tess said out loud with pure ferocity, killing some spiders with her sword. "COME ON!"

Even as he reached for his wand, Harry knew it was no good, there were too many of them, but as he tried to stand, ready to die fighting, a loud, long note sounded, and a blaze of light flamed through the hollow.

Mr. Weasley's car was thundering down the slope, headlights glaring, its horn screeching, knocking spiders aside; several were thrown onto their backs, their endless legs waving in the air. The car screeched to a halt in front of Harry and Ron and the doors flew open.

"I'll hold them off!" Tess yelled, killing some more giant spiders, as Harry was diving into the front seat; Ron seized the boarhound around the middle and Tess threw herself into the back of the car - the doors slammed shut - Ron didn't touch the accelerator but the car didn't need him; the engine roared and they were off, hitting more spiders. They sped up the slope, out of the hollow, and they were soon crashing through the forest, branches whipping the windows as the car wound its way cleverly through the widest gaps, following a path it obviously knew. Then it stopped for a bit.

"We're alive?" Tess asked, touching herself. "We're alive! Of course we are."

A spider burst through the window, grabbing Ron's neck. Thinking quickly, Harry pulled his wand and yelled, "Arania Exumai!" The spider instantly fell back and the car started flying high in the air before landing in the edge of the forest, next to Hagrid's cabin.

Harry looked sideways at Ron. His mouth was still open in the silent scream, but his eyes weren't popping anymore.

"Are you okay?"

Ron stared straight ahead, unable to speak.

Harry got out too, and after a minute or so, Ron seemed to regain the feeling in his limbs and followed, still stiff-necked and staring. Harry gave the car a grateful pat as it reversed back into the forest and disappeared from view.

Harry went back into Hagrid's cabin to get the Invisibility Cloak. Fang was trembling under a blanket in his basket. When Harry got outside again, he found Ron being violently sick in the pumpkin patch, with Tess patting his back.

"Easy buddy." She said. "I gotcha."

"Follow the spiders," said Ron weakly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Follow the spiders my ass! If Hagrid ever gets out of Azkaban, I'll kill him."

"I bet he thought Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his," said Harry.

"That's exactly Hagrid's problem!" said Ron, thumping the wall of the cabin. "He always thinks monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him! A cell in Azkaban!"

"Or maybe Hagrid's just a really good negotiator with monsters." said Tess optimistically, as they all watched the Ford Angela drive itself back into the Dark Forest. "Bye Christine!"

"Who the bloody hell is Christine?" Ron asked.

"The name I gave the car." Tess said nonchalantly.

Harry looked at her weirdly. "You named a car Christine?"

Tess gave him a death glare that shut him up. "You should really read more. And that's me talking."

"Forget the car." said Ron. "What was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out, I'd like to know?"

"Well we know one thing that will help us with the case." said Harry. "Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets."

Tess looked at the castle, finishing Harry's thoughts. "Somebody framed him."


	32. Things Get Worse

Summer was fast approaching. The next day was no picnic. The news that Dumbledore had been suspended and that Hagrid had been shipped to prison, had spread like wildfire and the entire school, even the pets were in a frenzy. To Hogwarts, the world had stopped.

Right at that moment, on one late afternoon, the remaining of the Golden Quartet was visiting the petrified Hermione. Tess replaced the flowers that had died on her bedside table.

"Wish you were here amiga." said Tess sadly looking at the petrified statue that was Hermione. "We really need you. Now more than ever."

Ron and Harry looked at her with contempt. Harry was stroking her hand when he felt something papery. It was no easy task getting that paper out. Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that Harry was sure he was going to tear it. He tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free. It was a page torn from a very old library book.

"Harry what is that?" Ron asked.

It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in Harry's brain.

"Ron," he breathed. "This is it. This is why Hermione was outside of the library the day she was attacked. Come on!" Harry led the other two wizards out as he read the page. "'Of the many fearsome beasts that roam our land, none is more deadly than the Basilisk. Capable of living for hundreds of years, instant death awaits any who meet this giant serpent's eye. Spiders flee before it and only the crowing of the rooster can kill it. Ron! This is it! The monster in the Chamber of Secrets is a Basilisk. That's why I can hear it speak. It's a snake."

"How poetic." said Tess sardonically. "Slytherin House has a snake for a symbol and yet the thing that's been doing Slytherin's Heir's dirty work is a snake. And a giant one too.

"But if it kills by looking people in the eye." Ron said. "How come no one's dead?"

Harry pondered in thought before looking at a window. "Because no one did look it in the eye. Not directly at least. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin . . . Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again . . . and Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror - and -"

Rods jaw had dropped.

"And Mrs. Norris?" he whispered eagerly.

"I'm pretty sure that a cat doesn't carry a camera or a mirror or both Harry." said Tess.

Harry thought hard, picturing the scene on the night of Halloween.

"The water. . ." he said slowly. "The flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She only saw the reflection . . . ."

He scanned the page in his hand eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense.

`: . . The crowing of the rooster . . . is fatal to it"! he read aloud. "Hagrid's roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! Spiders flee before it. It all fits!"

"But how's the basilisk been getting around the place?" said Ron. "A giant snake . . . Someone would've seen it."

Harry, however, pointed at the word Hermione had scribbled at the foot of the page.

"Pipes," Tess said. "It's been using…..the….plumbing." Tess' eyes wandered around until Tess found what she was looking for. "All this time, she was right there."

"You wanna fill us in on what you're thinking about?" Ron asked her.

"Guys do you remember what Aragog said?" Tess asked. "That girl 50 years ago? Died..in a bathroom? What if she never left?"

Ron and Harry said at the same time in realization, "Moaning Myrtle."

Suddenly, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified. `All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers to the second floor corridor room. Immediately, please. "

Harry wheeled around to stare at Ron. "Not another attack? Not now?"

"What'll we do?" said Ron, aghast. "Go back to the dormitory?"

"No," said Tess, glancing around. She reached into her backpack, something she was never without, and pulled out the CaMirror. "With this. Let's hear what it's all about. Mirror, Mirror, dust on floor, show us the second floor corridor."

Instantly, the mirror flickered like a mini television and showed the teachers running to the corridor, led by McGonagall. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared.

"As you can see, the Heir of Slytherin has left another message." she told the silent staff room. "Our worst fear has been realized. A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."

Professor Flitwick let out a squeal. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Harry, Ron and Tess looked at each other scared before turning their attention back to the screen.

"We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," said Professor Flitwick. "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said. . ."

Footsteps were heard approaching the corridor. For one wild moment, Harry was sure it would be Dumbledore. But it was Lockhart, and he was beaming.

"So sorry - dozed off - what have I missed?"

He didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Snape stepped forward.

"Just the man," he said. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

Lockhart blanched.

"That's right, Gilderoy," chipped in Professor Sprout. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I - well, I -"sputtered Lockhart. Tess and the others were enjoying every moment of this. This moment would be the one to tell the kids.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" piped up Professor Flitwick.

"D-did I? I don't recall -"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," said Snape. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

Lockhart stared around at his stony-faced colleagues.

"I - I really never - you may have misunderstood -"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," said Professor McGonagall. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last."

Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome anymore. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usual toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and feeble.

"Very well," he said. "I'll - I'll be in my office, getting getting ready."

And he left the corridor.

Madam Pomfrey looked at McGonagall and asked, "Who is it that the monster's taken Minerva?"

The Head of Gryffindor House pursed her lips and answered choked, "Ginny Weasley."

Harry and Ron paled while Tess gasped in horror. The teachers walked away, revealing the blood written message on the wall.

Her skeleton will lie on the chamber forever.

Ron was threatening to burst in tears. "Ginny. Oh Ginny." Tess gave him a big hug. "What are we gonna do? What if she's dead? What if-"

"Ron!" Harry nearly yelled. "Don't worry mate. We're gonna get her back. That's a promise."

"How?" asked Tess, putting her CaMirror away. "Not to be Debbie Downer, but I don't see that happening. As far as I see in the odds being in our favor, Hermione's Petrified, the staff's freaked, Hagrid's behind bars and Dumbledore's been chucked out. Who else can we turn to?"

"Well." Harry said nervously scratching his head. "There is one last resort. And I'm talking about the very last wizard anyone needs."

Ron and Tess' eyes widened in horror.

"No." Ron said shaking his head. "Please no."

Harry nodded.

"No frigging way." Tess deadpanned.


	33. Lockhart is Busted

 

“Harry, this has to be the worst idea you’ve ever had!” Tess shouted as the trio burst into Lockhart’s empty classroom.

“I know Tess.” said Harry as they ran to Lockhart’s office. “He may be useless, but Lockhart’s still gonna try to get in the chamber. At least we can tell him what we know!”

Tess, Ron, and Harry ran into Lockhart’s office without knocking to find him stuffing some clothes in a suitcase.

"Professor, we've got some information for you," said Harry.

His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade-green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" asked Tess confused.

"Er, well, yes," said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. "Urgent call - unavoidable - got to go--"

"What about my sister?" said Ron jerkily.

"Well, as to that - most unfortunate -" said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I--"

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" said Tess. "And I strongly emphasize the words, ‘Defense against Dark Arts’! You can't go now!”

"Well - I must say - when I took the job -" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "nothing in the job description - didn't expect--"

"You mean you're running away?" said Harry disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books--"

"Books can be misleading," said Lockhart delicately.

"You wrote them!" Harry shouted.

"My dear boy," said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Harry. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip. I mean, come on--"

The room was silent until Tess spoke. “Oh Lockhart. I knew you were a phony, but I never knew you were **this** much of a phony.” 

Lockhart looked around, confused. “Phony? I’m-I don’t understand.”

“She means you’re a fraud.” Harry angrily clarified. “You’ve just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done!”

"Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, shaking his head impatiently, "it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."

He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.

"Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He pulled out his wand and turned to them.

"Awfully sorry, children, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book--"

Harry reached his wand just in time. Lockhart had barely raised his, when Harry bellowed, " Expelliarmus! "

Lockhart was blasted backward, falling over his trunk; his wand flew high into the air; Tess caught it, and flung it out of the open window. Ron had held Lockhart in a headlock when he tried to reach for it.

"Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one," said Harry furiously, kicking Lockhart's trunk aside. Lockhart was looking up at him, feeble once more. Harry was still pointing his wand at him.

"What d'you want me to do?" said Lockhart weakly. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

“Oh that’s where you’re wrong.” said Tess slyly, twirling her own wand in her hands. “By the way Ron, nice job on the headlock. Now Lockhart, surprisingly, you’re actually useful for something.  You’re gonna be our guinea pig. We think we know where the chamber is. And what's inside it. Let’s move.”

  
  



	34. The Time When Moaning Myrtle Isn't Making A Scene

They marched Lockhart out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall, to the door of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. They sent Lockhart in first. Harry was pleased to see that he was shaking. Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet. Tess had never been grateful to have a wailing ghost in the bathroom before.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said gleefully when she saw Harry. “What do you want?”

“To ask you how you died,” said Harry.

Myrtle’s whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question. “Ooooh, it was dreadful,” she said with relish. “It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I’d hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in.”

“Who?” Tess asked.

“I don’t know.” Myrtle spat out. “I was distraught! They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then —” Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. “I died.”

“Just like that?” Tess asked rhetorically.

“How?” said Harry.

“No idea,” said Myrtle in hushed tones. “I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away. . . .” She looked dreamily at Harry. “And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she’d ever laughed at my glasses.”

“Where exactly did you see the eyes?” asked Harry. 

“Somewhere there,” said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet. Harry and Tess hurried over to it. Lockhart was standing well back with Ron holding him down, a look of utter terror on his face. It looked like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Harry saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.

“That tap’s never worked” said Myrtle brightly as he tried to turn it.

“This is it.” Harry breathed. “This is it guys. I think this is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.”

“Harry,” said Ron. “Say something. Something in Parseltongue.”

“But —” Harry thought hard. The only times he’d ever managed to speak Parseltongue were when he’d been faced with a real snake. He stared hard at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was real.

“Open up,” he said. He looked at Ron, who shook his head. “English,” he said.

Harry looked back at the snake, willing himself to believe it was alive. If he moved his head, the candlelight made it look as though it were moving. “Open up,” he said. Except that the words weren’t what he heard; a strange hissing had escaped him, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin.

Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

“Of all the places to put a secret entrance and it had to be where girls do their business.” Tess commented. “This man no sense of privacy.”

Harry then had made up his mind what he was going to do. “I’m going down there,” he said. He couldn’t not go, not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Ginny might be alive.

“Me too,” said Ron bravely.

“Ditto.” said Tess. There was a pause. 

“Well, you hardly seem to need me,” said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile. “So there’s no reason for me to stay.” He made a move to leave but Ron had pushed him back.

“Oh yes there is.” said Ron. “You can go first.”

White-faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening. “Children.” he said, his voice feeble. “Children, what good will it do?”

Tess jabbed him in the back with her wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe. “I really don’t think —” he started to say, but Ron gave him a push, and he slid out of sight.

“It’s really quite filthy down here.” Lockhart’s voice sounded.

“Let’s go then.” Harry told the others.

“Oh Harry.” said Myrtle gleefully. “If you die down there, you’re welcome to share my toilet.”

Ron and Tess looked disgusted while Harry replied, “Uh, thanks Myrtle.”

He lowered himself slowly into the pipe, then let go, Ron and Tess following behind him. It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. They could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and Tess knew that they were falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind him, Harry could hear Ron, thudding slightly at the curves. And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was getting to his feet a little ways away, covered in slime and white as a ghost. Harry stood aside as Ron came whizzing out of the pipe, too.

“We must be miles under the school,” said Harry, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

“Under the lake, probably,” said Ron, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.

They heard a feminine grunt as Tess landed on the slimy floor, the muck clinging onto her white shirt and blonde hair.

“I think this where the garbage goes to die.” said Tess, wrinkling her nose as the underground room did have a very unplesant stench.

All four of them turned to stare into the darkness ahead. “Lumos!” Harry muttered to his wand and it lit again. “C’mon,” he said to Ron, Tess, and Lockhart, and off they went, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.

The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wandlight.

“Remember,” Tess said quietly as they walked cautiously forward while she was tying her tie around her head like a bandanna, “any sign of movement that’s not human, close your eyes right away. . . .”

But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Ron stepped on what turned out to be a rat’s skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Tess looked at the bones in disgust. Trying very hard not to imagine what Ginny might look like if they found her, Harry led the way forward, around a dark bend in the tunnel.

“Harry — there’s something up there —” said Ron hoarsely, grabbing Harry’s shoulder.

They froze, watching. Harry could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn’t moving. “Maybe it’s asleep,” he breathed, glancing back at the other two.

“I don’t think so.” said Tess.

Lockhart’s hands were pressed over his eyes. Harry turned back to look at the thing, his heart beating so fast it hurt. Very slowly, his eyes as narrow as he could make them and still see, Harry edged forward, his wand held high. The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.

“Holy flipping shit.” said Tess quietly.

There was a sudden movement behind them. Gilderoy Lockhart’s knees had given way. “Heart of a lion this one.” said Ron sarcastically. “Get up,” He pointed his wand at Lockhart. He got to his feet — then he dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground. Harry jumped forward, but too late — Lockhart was straightening up, panting, Ron’s wand in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face. 

“The adventure ends here, children!” he said. “I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you three tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. You first, Mr. Potter. Say good-bye to your memories!” He raised Ron’s Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, “Obliviate!”

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Tess screamed running from the falling rubble. Next moment, she was standing with Harry, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock. “Ron!” she shouted. “You ok, man?”

“Ron!” Harry called 

“I’m here!” came Ron’s muffled voice from behind the rockfall. “I’m okay — this git’s not, though — he got blasted by the wand —” 

There was a dull thud and a loud “ow!” It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins. “What now?” Ron’s voice said, sounding desperate.

“We can’t get through — it’ll take ages. . . .”

Harry looked up at the tunnel ceiling. Huge cracks had appeared in it. He had never tried to break apart anything as large as these rocks by magic, and now didn’t seem a good moment to try — what if the whole tunnel caved in? Even Tess seemed fluxed at the situation. There was another thud and another “ow!” from behind the rocks. They were wasting time. Ginny had already been in the Chamber of Secrets for hours.

“What do we do?” Harry heard Tess ask worridly. “Ron’s back there, but Ginny’s out there.”

Harry knew there was only one thing to do. “Wait there,” he called to Ron. “Wait with Lockhart. I’ll go on. . . . If I’m not back in an hour . . .”

There was a very pregnant pause. “I’ll try and shift some of this rock,” said Ron, who seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. “So you can — can get back through. And, Harry —”

“See you in a bit,” said Harry, trying to inject some confidence into his shaking voice. He then looked to Tess. “You should stay here, help Ron shift some of the rock.”

“No way.” said Tess stubbornly. “You’re not going alone. I don’t care if I die, ok? Ginny's life is on the line and I’m going into that chamber to save that kid, with your help, or without it.”

“Fine.” said Harry firmly. And the two wizards set off past the giant snake skin. Soon the distant noise of Ron straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry’s body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he’d find when it did. Tess was wishing she had her sword. And then, at last, as they crept around yet another bend, they saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds. Harry and Tess approached, their throats very dry. There was no need for Harry to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive. He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

“Open,” said Harry, in a low, faint hiss. The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry and Tess, both shaking from head to foot, walked inside.


	35. Of Giant Snakes and Magic Weapons

They were standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. Harry’s heart beating very fast, Tess stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny? Harry pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. They both kept their eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following Tess. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, she thought she saw one stir. Then, as they drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

 

Both Tess and Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and similar to that of a monkey, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard’s sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

 

“Oh crap.” Tess muttered, running towards the girl.

 

“Ginny!” Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. “Ginny — don’t be dead — please don’t be dead —” He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny’s shoulders, and turned her over.

 

“She’s got a pulse, but it’s faint.” said Tess, pressing two fingers on Ginny’s neck and then using her hands to compress pressure of her chest. “I think she might be in some sort of hypothermic catatonic state.”

 

Ginny’s face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn’t Petrified. “Ginny, please wake up,” Harry muttered desperately, shaking her while Tess kept applying pressure to Ginny’s chest in an effort to jolt her awake and get some oxygen back in her lungs. Ginny’s head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

 

“Might wanna move back. Looks like I may have to give her artificial respiration.” Tess said, pulling Harry close to her.

 

“No need to. She won’t wake,” said a soft voice. Both Tess and Harry jumped and Harry spun around on his knees. A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though someone was looking at him through a misted window.

 

“Who are you?” Tess asked with uncertaintity.

 

But to Harry, there was no mistaking him — “Tom — Tom Riddle?” Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry’s face.

 

“Wait, this is the guy?” Tess asked. “The guy who showed you what happened?”

 

“What d’you mean, she won’t wake?” Harry said desperately. “She’s not — she’s not — ?”

 

“She’s still alive,” said Riddle. “But only just.”

 

Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen.

 

“What are you? Some kind of ghost?” Tess said on guard as usual.

 

“A memory,” said Riddle quietly. “Preserved in a diary for fifty years.” He pointed toward the floor near the statue’s giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

 

For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there — but there were more pressing matters to deal with. “You’ve got to help me, Tom,” Harry said, raising Ginny’s head again. “We’ve got to get her out of here. There’s a basilisk . . . I don’t know where it is, but it could be along any moment. . . . Please, help me —” Riddle didn’t move. Both Harry and Tess, sweating, managed to hoist Ginny off the floor, and Harry bent to pick up his wand again. But his wand had gone. “Did you see — ?” He looked up. Riddle was still watching him — twirling Harry’s wand between his long fingers. “Thanks,” said Harry, stretching out his hand for it. A smile curled the corners of Riddle’s mouth while Tess noticed this and eyed him suspiciously.

 

Riddle continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly. “Listen,” said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny’s dead weight. “We’ve got to go! If the basilisk comes —”

“It won’t come until it is called,” said Riddle calmly.

 

Harry and Tess lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer. “What d’you mean?” he said. “Look, give me my wand, I might need it —”

 

Riddle’s smile broadened. “You won’t be needing it,” he said.

 

“You’re surprisingly calm about this.” said Tess, narrowing her eyes at Riddle with burning suspicion.

 

Choosing to ignore her, Harry stared at the memory of Riddle. “What d’you mean, I won’t be — ?”

 

“I’ve waited a long time for this, Harry Potter,” said Riddle. “For the chance to see you. To speak to you.” He looked at Tess who gripped her wand, ready for anything. “Your girlfriend is on the house.”

 

“She/He’s not my girlfriend/boyfriend!” Tess and Harry shouted in unison. Riddle only smiled in amusement.

 

“Look.” said Harry, losing patience, “I don’t think you get it. We’re in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later —”

 

“We’re going to talk now,” said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry’s wand. Harry stared at him. There was something very funny going on here. Tess looked at Ginny and then back at Riddle. She couldn’t help but think that he knew more than what he was letting on. . . .

 

“How did Ginny get like this?” Harry asked slowly.

 

“How are you even here?” Tess asked. "Literally in person?"

 

“Well, all are excellent questions.” said Riddle pleasantly. “And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley’s like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.”

 

“What are you talking about?” said Harry.

 

Tess eyed Riddle a little, then found her eyes wandering back to the little black book in the unconscious girl’s hands and suddenly remembered how Harry even met Riddle in the first place.

 

“The diary,” She said. “It was the diary wasn’t it? Ginny wrote in it, and then you wrote back. Just like when Harry found it.”

 

Riddle laughed a high, cold, merciless laugh that made Harry’s hairs stand on edge and sent a chill up Tess’ spine. “My, my, my! What a clever one you are.” He walked towards her and around her as if taking in every detail of Tess. “I can see how she admires you.”

 

Tess raised an eyebrow at this. _Ginny looked up to me and I didn’t even notice?_ When they all started school, Tess decided to give the redhead some space to adjust on her own. She didn’t want Ginny to feel uncomfortable, but it seemed that it had the opposite effect

 

“Yes.” Riddle continued. “My diary. Little Ginny’s been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes — how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how she would never be as brave and dauntless as the American, Tess Crosswell and how” — Riddle’s eyes glinted — “how she didn’t think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her . . . .” All the time he spoke, Riddle’s eyes never left Harry’s face. There was an almost hungry look in them. “It’s very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl,” he went on. “But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom. . . . I’m so glad I’ve got this diary to confide in. . . . It’s like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket. . . .” Riddle laughed, again his high, cold laugh that didn’t suit him.“If I say it myself, Harry, I’ve always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. . . . I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her . . .”

 

“What d’you mean?” said Harry, whose mouth had gone very dry.

 

“What did you do to her?” Tess snarled angrily, her purple eyes blazed angrily.

 

“Haven’t you two guessed yet?” said Riddle softly. “Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib’s cat.”

 

“No,” Harry whispered.

 

“Yes,” said Riddle, calmly.

 

“You sick son of a bitch.” Tess growled.

 

“Of course, she didn’t know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries . . . far more interesting, they became. . . . Dear Tom,” he recited, watching Harry’s horrified face and Tess’ angered one. “I think I’m losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don’t know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can’t remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I’ve got blood all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I’m pale and I’m not myself. I think he suspects me. . . . There was another attack today and I don’t know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I’m going mad. . . . I think I’m the one attacking everyone, Tom!”

 

Harry’s fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into his palms.

 

“It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary,” said Riddle. “But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that’s where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn’t have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet. . . .”

 

“And why did you want to meet me?” said Harry. Anger was coursing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady.

 

“Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry,” said Riddle. “Your whole fascinating history.” His eyes roved over the lightning scar on Harry’s forehead, and their expression grew hungrier. “I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust —”

 

“Hagrid’s my friend,” said Harry, his voice now shaking. “And you framed him, didn’t you? I thought you made a mistake, but —”

 

Riddle laughed his high laugh again. “It was my word against Hagrid’s, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student . . . on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls . . . but I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn’t possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance . . . as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power!

 

“But someone didn’t buy the story.” said Tess.

 

“Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent.” said Riddle. “He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed. . . . Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did. . . .”

 

“I bet Dumbledore saw right through you,” said Harry, his teeth gritted.

 

“Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled,” said Riddle carelessly. “I knew it wouldn’t be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn’t going to waste those long years I’d spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin’s noble work.”

  


“Well, you haven’t finished it,” said Harry triumphantly. “No one’s died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again.”

 

“Haven’t I already told you,” said Riddle quietly, “that killing Mudbloods doesn’t matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been — you.” Harry stared at him. “Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who’d been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin’s heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery — particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue. . . . “So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn’t much life left in her. . . . She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last. . . . I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you’d come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter.”

 

“Like what?” Harry spat, fists still clenched.

 

“Well,” said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, “how is it that you — a baby with no extraordinary magical talent — managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort’s powers were destroyed?” There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now.

 

“Why do you care how I escaped?” said Harry slowly. “Voldemort was after your time. . . .”

 

“Voldemort,” said Riddle softly, “is my past, present, and future. . . .” He pulled Harry’s wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words: Tom Marvolo Riddle Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves: I am Lord Voldemort.

 

“You.” Tess said in realization. “You’re the Heir of Slytherin.”

 

“You see?” Riddle whispered. “It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father’s name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother’s side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry — I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!”

 

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak.

 

“You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred.

 

“Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.

 

“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed.

 

“He’s not as gone as you might think!” Tess retorted. “Not if we’ve got something to say about it.”

 

Riddle opened his mouth, but froze. Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hairs on Tess and Harry’s scalps and made their hearts feel as though they were swelling to twice their normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that they both felt it vibrating inside their own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar. A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock’s and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

 

“Mom?” Tess whispered, being reminded a certain talent her mother had developed when she was young.

 

A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Harry looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye. The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry’s cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

 

“That’s a phoenix. . . .” said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.

 

“Fawkes?” Harry breathed, and he felt the bird’s golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently.

 

“And that —” said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, “that’s the old school Sorting Hat —”  So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the hat lay motionless at Harry’s feet. Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark Chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once — “This is what Dumbledore sends his defenders! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe Quintessa Crosswell?” Harry didn’t answer. He might not see what use Fawkes or the Sorting Hat were, but at least he wasn’t alone, and he waited for Riddle to stop laughing with his courage mounting. “To business, Harry,” said Riddle, still smiling broadly. “Twice — in your past, in my future — we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk,” he added softly, “the longer you stay alive. Your friend may need it.”

 

Harry was thinking fast, weighing his chances. Riddle had the wand. He, Harry, had Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, neither of which would be much good in a duel. And worse, he had threatened the life of his best friend. She could try to fight him but she would definitely die at the hands of Lord Voldemort. It looked bad, all right . . . but the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ginny . . . and in the meantime, Harry noticed suddenly, Riddle’s outline was becoming clearer, more solid. . . . If it had to be a fight between him and Riddle, better sooner than later.

 

“No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me,” said Harry abruptly. “I don’t know myself. But I know why you couldn’t kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother,” he added, shaking with suppressed rage. “She stopped you killing me. And I’ve seen the real you, I saw you last year. You’re a wreck. You’re barely alive. That’s where all your power got you. You’re in hiding. You’re ugly, you’re foul —”

 

Riddle’s face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile. “So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that’s a powerful countercharm. I can see now . . . there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike . . . but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That’s all I wanted to know.”

 

Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle’s twisted smile was widening again.

 

“Now, Harry, I’m going to teach you a little lesson.” Harry, fear spreading up his numb legs, watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed — but Harry understood what he was saying. . . . “Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.” Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder. Slytherin’s gigantic stone face was moving. Horrorstruck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue’s mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.  “Let’s match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, his faithful sidekick and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him. . . .” He cast an amused eye over Tess, Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, then walked away.

 

“Oh I **know** he did not just call me that.” Tess muttered.

 

Harry and Tess backed away until they hit the dark Chamber wall, and as Harry shut his eyes tight he felt Fawkes’ wing sweep his cheek as he took flight. Harry wanted to shout, “Don’t leave me!” but what chance did a phoenix have against the king of serpents? Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. The two wizards felt it shudder — both knew what was happening, they could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin’s mouth.

 

“Cover your eyes.” Tess warned. Then he heard Riddle’s hissing voice: “Kill them.” The basilisk was moving toward Tess and Harry; each could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, the wizards began to run blindly sideways, one of Harry’s hand outstretched, feeling his way, the other holding on to his best friend — Voldemort was laughing — Harry tripped and Tess stopped. He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood — the serpent was barely feet from him, he could hear it coming — There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something heavy hit Harry so hard that he was smashed into the wall. Tess was pushed back and her back collided with a pillar. Waiting for fangs to sink through Harry’s body, he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars — He couldn’t help it — he opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on. The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake. Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers — Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake’s tail thrashed, narrowly missing Tess, and before Harry could shut his eyes, it turned — Harry looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great, bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony. Tess saw this and gasped in shock. They were no longer in danger of being Petrified.

 

“NO!” Harry heard Riddle screaming. “LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY AND THE GIRL ARE BEHIND YOU! YOU CAN STILL SMELL THEM! KILL THEM!” The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes.

 

Tess got up, deciding that she couldn’t sit around for long. She whipped out her wand, already regretting getting up and even trying to face the Basilisk. At any moment, one of the three students, minus Voldemort, could be dead. But she had to try anyway, even if it meant getting herself killed. But that was a sacrifice she had been preparing for since she was a young girl.

 

“Come on!” She yelled, unleashing a hex on the Basilisk. A few more and Tess started feeling a sense of power coursing through her. Another blast of her wand and out came not a hex or a jinx, but a long whip made of fire that seemed to send the serpent backing in pain. Tess took a look at the new weapon that came out of her own wand and laughed in glee. She charged, lashing out her whip, time and time again, until the serpent made a move to try to bite her but she moved back. A grave mistake when she stopped as the Basilisk swept her back, making her collide with the wall.

 

“Help us, help us,” Harry muttered wildly, “someone — anyone —” The snake’s tail whipped across the floor again. Harry ducked. Something soft hit his face. The basilisk had swept the Sorting Hat into Harry’s arms. Harry seized it. It was all he had left, his only chance — he rammed it onto his head and threw himself flat onto the floor as the Basilisk’s tail swung over him again. _Help_ _me_ — _help_ _us_ — Harry thought, his eyes screwed tight under the hat. Please help me — There was no answering voice. Instead, the hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly. Something very hard and heavy thudded onto the top of Harry’s head, almost knocking him out. Stars winking in front of his eyes, he grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it. A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs.

 

“KILL THE BOY! LEAVE THE GIRL! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! SNIFF — SMELL HIM!”

 

Harry was on his feet, ready as Tess joined him, the blazing whip in her hands. The basilisk’s head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face him. They could see the vast, bloody eye sockets, see the mouth, stretching wide, wide enough to swallow each, whole, lined with fangs long as Harry’s sword, thin, glittering, venomous — It lunged blindly — Harry dodged and it hit the Chamber wall. It lunged again, and its forked tongue lashed Harry’s side. The serpent lunged again and Tess pulled her whip back and kept firing at it until she closed it tight. She and Harry looked at each other and seemed to know what was going to happen as they nodded, Tess let go, Harry raised the sword in both his hands — The basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was true — Harry threw his whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent’s mouth —

 

But as warm blood drenched Harry’s arms, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. Unfortunately, when Tess lashed her whip, so as to damage the serpent's throat for extra insurance she accidentally pressed her elbow on the fangs, the pain blinding her as the bone broke. Two long, poisonous fangs were sinking deeper and deeper into each arm and they splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor. Harry slid down the wall. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. Tess could barely see through the pain and barely managed to wrench the fang out of her arm. But both knew time was running out-for both of them. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wounds in their arms. Even as Harry dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking his robes, his vision went a little foggy.

 

The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull color. Both Tess and Harry felt drowsy. Everything around them seemed to be spinning in and out of focus.

 

“So ends the famous Harry Potter and his friend.” said Riddle’s distant voice. “Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You’ll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry. . . . She bought you twelve years of borrowed time . . . but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must. . . .”

 

Through the inferno of pain, Tess spread her fingers out and felt something leathery; the diary.

 

“Funny.” said Riddle. “The damage a silly little book can do, especially in the hands of a silly little girl.”

 

Without thinking, without considering, she gripped the Basilisk fang as though she had meant to do it all along and said with malice at Riddle, “Imagine what this book can do…” She opened the diary. “in the hands of someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

 

“STOP, NO!” Riddle yelled, but it was too late as she plunged the fang into the book. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Harry seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Tess’ hands, flooding the floor. Harry took this idea, and his fang and stabbed the book with his fang, more ink coming out and more screaming.  Finally, Harry closed the book,  and together at perfect synchronization, they stabbed it. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then — He had gone. Harry’s wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence.

 

Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a giant sizzling hole right through it. Shaking all over, Harry pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he’d just traveled miles by Floo powder. Tess felt triumphant at the victory but was then given a grim reminder of the price as the adrenaline from the wound came back at her. Same as Harry. Slowly, he gathered together his wand and the Sorting Hat, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the basilisk’s mouth.

 

Then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Ginny was stirring. As Harry hurried toward her, still fighting the pain, she sat up. Her bemused eyes traveled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Harry, in his blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face. “Harry — oh, Harry — I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn’t say it in front of Percy-Tess, I’m so sorry! I never meant too —R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over — and — how did you kill that — that thing? W-where’s Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary —Wait, you’re hurt! Both of you!”

 

“It’s all right,” said Harry, covering his gaping wound. “Ginny, you need to get yourself out. Follow the chamber and you’ll find Ron.”

 

“But what about you?” Ginny cried out. “Both of you are bleeding.”

 

“Don’t worry.” Tess croaked out, still feeling the cut-throat pain. “It’s as bad as it looks. But seriously. We came down here to get you out. So please go on ahead. We’ll catch up.” She shifted but hissed in pain when her elbow scraped the ground a little. “Eventually.”

 

At that point, the adrenaline wore off both Tess and Harry as they started to feel extremely drowsy. The pain increased and they started to feel their breath shortening with each pant.

  
"Ginny." Harry looked at the terrified girl. "Go."

 

Then suddenly, a blur of gold and scarlett swooped down and landed right in between the wounded wizards. It was Fawkes the Phoenix, apparently returned to say his farewell to Harry and Tess before they died.

 

“You were brilliant Fawkes.” said Harry weakly.

 

“Totes.” Tess agreed.

 

“Can you make sure Ginny’s safe?” Harry asked. Fawkes lowered his head and began to blink out tears on Harry’s wound. _If this is dying._ Harry thought. _It’s not so bad._ The pain seemed to end, but instead of the world going black, it just came back into focus even more. Fawkes did the same thing to Tess and all the wizards looked at each other flabbergasted at the healed wounds that were vanishing, as though they had never been there at all.

 

“Of course.” Tess gasped out. “Phoenix tears have healing powers.”

 

“How do you know that?” Harry asked at her curiously.

 

Tess merely shrugged in response. “Let’s just say I had a phoenix of a mom.”

 

“Thanks.” Harry said to the phoenix before turning back to Ginny. “Riddle’s finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C’mon, Ginny, let’s get out of here —”

 

“I’m going to be expelled!” Ginny wept as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet. “I’ve looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I’ll have to leave and — w-what’ll Mum and Dad say?”

 

“We’ll work something out.” said Tess kindly, helping Ginny up to her feet. “But for now, let’s just get out of here safely and get back to Ron.”

 

Fawkes was waiting for them, hovering in the Chamber entrance. Harry urged Ginny forward; they stepped over the motionless coils of the dead basilisk, through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Harry heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.

 

“Tess?” Ginny asked the blonde girl who was standing in front of the door.

 

“What’s on your mind?” Harry asked.

 

“I just wish I had a grenade.” Tess said bitterly.

 

“Why?” Harry asked.

 

“So that I couldthrow it in the chamber and make sure none of Slytherin’s Nazism can ever come out again.” Tess said in a dark tone that was similar to Voldemort’s.

 

Only Ginny, being raised by a wizarding family, didn’t get the reference. “What’s a Nazi?” She asked.

 

As they headed out, away from the door, Harry said to the redhead, “Trust us Ginny. You don’t want to know.”


	36. Leaving the Chamber

After a few minutes’ progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sound of slowly shifting rock reached Harry and Tess’ ears.

 

“Ron!” Harry yelled, speeding up. “Ron can you hear us?!”

 

“Ginny’s okay!” Tess yelled. “We’re all ok and we’ve got her!” 

 

He heard Ron give a strangled cheer, and they turned the next bend to see his eager face staring through the sizable gap he had managed to make in the rockfall. “Ginny!” Ron thrust an arm through the gap in the rock to pull  her through first before embracing her in a hug.

 

“You’re alive! I don’t believe it! What happened? How — what — where did that bird come from?” Fawkes had swooped through the gap after Ginny. 

 

“He’s Dumbledore’s,” said Harry, squeezing through himself. 

 

“How come you’ve got a sword?” said Ron, gaping at the glittering weapon in Harry’s hand. 

 

“We’ll explain when we get out of here,” said Harry with a sideways glance at Ginny, who was crying harder than ever. 

 

“But —” 

 

“Later,” Tess said shortly. It wasn’t a good idea to tell Ron yet who’d been opening the Chamber, not in front of Ginny, anyway who had just been through a great ordeal. “Wait, there’s someone missing. Where’s Lockhart?”

 

“Back there,” said Ron, still looking puzzled but jerking his head up the tunnel toward the pipe. “He’s in a bad way. Come and see.”

 

Led by Fawkes, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, they walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting there, humming placidly to himself.

 

“What’s his deal?” Tess asked.

 

“His memory’s gone,” said Ron. “The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn’t got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He’s a danger to himself.” 

 

“Talk about a taste of your own medicine.” Tess muttered.

 

Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at them all. “Hello,” he said. “Odd sort of place, this, isn’t it? Do you live here?” 

 

“No,” said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry. Harry bent down and looked up the long, dark pipe.

 

“Have you thought how we’re going to get back up this?” he said to Ron. 

 

“I seriously don’t understand how you two survive without me.” said Tess. “Hey Fawkes!” The bird circled in the air before landing on her shoulder. “Can you give us a lift?”

 

Ron looked perplexed. “But you’re much too heavy for a bird to pull up there —” 

 

“Fawkes,” said Harry, “isn’t an ordinary bird.” He turned quickly to the others. “We’ve got to hold on to each other. Ginny, grab Ron’s hand. Tess hold Professor Lockhart —” 

 

“He means you,” said Ron sharply to Lockhart. 

 

“And Ginny, hold my hand, while I’ll hold Tess’.” Harry tucked the sword and the Sorting Hat into his belt, Ron took hold of the back of Harry’s robes, and Harry reached out and took hold of Fawkes’s strangely hot tail feathers.

 

An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through his whole body and the next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe. Harry could hear Lockhart dangling below him, saying, “Amazing! This is just like magic!” 

 

The chill air was whipping through Tess’ hair, as she remembered all the times her mother took her on flights when she was a phoenix and before he’d stopped enjoying the ride, it was over — all four of them were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, and as Lockhart straightened his hat, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place. 

But tears were still flooding silently down Ginny’s face. 

 

“It’s ok Ginny.” Tess comforted her, like a big sister would to her own sibling. “Everything’s gonna be ok.”

 

“Where now?” said Ron, with an anxious look. Harry pointed. Fawkes was leading the way, glowing gold along the corridor. They strode after him, and moments later, found themselves outside Professor McGonagall’s office. Harry knocked and pushed the door open. 


	37. We Take Our Chance to Testify

For a moment, there was silence as Harry, Ron, Tess, Ginny, and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Harry and Tess’ case) blood. Then there was a scream. “Ginny!” It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She lept to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.

 

Tess smiled warmly at them, happy that two parents got their daughter back.

 

Harry, however, was looking past them. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past Harry’s ear and settled on Dumbledore’s shoulder, just as Harry found himself along with Tess and Ron being swept into Mrs. Weasley’s tight embrace. “You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?”

 

“I think we’d all like to know that,” said Professor McGonagall weakly.

 

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry and Tess, who hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Hat, the ruby encrusted sword, and what remained of Riddle’s diary. Then he, with Tess’ sarcastic commentary, started telling them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence: He told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione had finally realized that he was hearing a basilisk in the pipes; how he and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how he had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom. Neither of them dared to mention their Polyjuice Potion episode. The last thing they needed was to meet the wrath of one Severus Snape.

 

“Very well,” Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, “so you found out where the entrance was — breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add — but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?” So Harry, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about Fawkes’s timely arrival and about the Sorting Hat giving him the sword. But then he faltered. He and Tess had so far avoided mentioning Riddle’s diary — or Ginny. She was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley’s shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. What if they expelled her? Harry thought in panic. Riddle’s diary didn’t work anymore. . . . How could they prove it had been he who’d made her do it all? Instinctively, Harry looked at Dumbledore, who smiled faintly, the firelight glancing off his half-moon spectacles.

 

“What interests me most,” said Dumbledore gently, “Is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania.”

 

Relief — warm, sweeping, glorious relief — swept over Harry.

 

“W-what’s that?” said Mr. Weasley in a stunned voice. “You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny’s not . . . Ginny hasn’t been . . . has she?”

 

“It was this,” said Tess quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore, then showing it to the Weasley parents. Ginny looked down in shame. “Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen then Ginny found it one day and started writing in it. I can tell you not even sh expected that it would start writing back. I mean, who **would** expect something as simple as a diary to have a voice of it’s own?”

 

Dumbledore took the diary from Tess and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages. “Brilliant,” he said softly. “Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen.” He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered. “Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school . . . traveled far and wide . . . sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here.”

 

“Ginny!” said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. “Haven’t I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain. Why didn’t you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic —”

 

“I d-didn’t know,” sobbed Ginny. “I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it.”

 

“Ginny.” said Tess, taking the sobbing girl and embracing her in a hug. “It’s ok. You're gonna be ok." She then looked at The Weasleys and Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. "Look, Ginny’s just a kid, Mr. Weasley. An sweet innocent kid at that and that’s the kind of person Voldemort would try to corrupt. It’s not really her fault that all of this happened. I should have been there for her instead of just leaving her to find her own way, so this is partly my fault and I am sorry. But for now, who gives a crap? She needs rest.”

 

“I could not agree more.” said Dumbledore. “Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away. This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.” He strode over to the door and opened it. “Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up,” he added, twinkling kindly down at her. “You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She’s just giving out Mandrake juice — I daresay the basilisk’s victims will be waking up any moment.”

 

“So Hermione’s okay!” said Ron brightly.

 

“There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny,” said Dumbledore. Tess let go of Ginny and Mrs. Weasley led her daughter out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken.

 

“You know, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, “I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?”

 

“Right,” said Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. “I’ll leave you to deal with Potter, Crosswell and Weasley, shall I?”

 

“Certainly,” said Dumbledore. She left, and Harry and Tess and Ron gazed uncertainly at Dumbledore. What exactly had Professor McGonagall meant, deal with them? Surely — surely — they weren’t about to be punished?

 

“I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules,” said Dumbledore.

 

“We’re dead.” Tess whispered to the boys. “So very, very dead.”

 

Ron opened his mouth in horror.

 

“On the contrary Miss Crosswell.” said Dumbledore. “This goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words,” Dumbledore went on, smiling. “All three of you will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and — let me see — yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor.” Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart’s valentine flowers and closed his mouth again. “But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure,” Dumbledore added. “Why so modest, Gilderoy?”

 

Harry gave a start. He had completely forgotten about Lockhart. He turned and saw that Lockhart was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.

 

Tess chuckled sheepishly. “It's kind of a funny story TBH.”

 

“Professor Dumbledore,” Ron said quickly, “there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart —”

 

“Am I a professor?” said Lockhart in mild surprise. “Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?”

 

“He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired,” Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore.

 

“Dear me,” said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver mustache quivering. “Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!”

 

“Sword?” said Lockhart dimly. “Haven’t got a sword. That boy has, though.” He pointed at Harry. “He’ll lend you one.”

 

“Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too?” Dumbledore said to Ron. “And would you take these release papers to Azkaban?” He handed Ron a letter. “I do believe we need our gamekeeper back. I’d like a few more words with Harry and Quintessa. ..”

 

Lockhart ambled out. Ron cast a curious look back at Dumbledore and Harry as he closed the door. Dumbledore crossed to one of the chairs by the fire. “Sit down, you two.” he said, and the second years sat, feeling unaccountably nervous. “First of all, Quintessa, Harry, I want to thank you,” said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling again. “You both must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you.” He stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto his knee. Harry grinned awkwardly as Dumbledore watched him. “Now Quintessa, I sense, something conflicts with you.”

 

“Yeah.” said Tess, bringing out her wand. “When we were fighting Slytherin's King Kong in that chamber, my wand started acting kind of weird. This, sort of, fire whip came out of it and when I flashed it at the Basilisk, it hurt it. My wand’s never done anything like that before and I may not be an expert on wandlore but I’m pretty sure that most wands don’t have a giant fiery whip coming out of it.”

 

“Ah yes.” said Dumbledore, taking Tess’ wand and inspecting it. “I have been meaning to talk to you about your wand. And you’re right. Most wands don’t create such spontaneous phenomenon. But there is a certain family of wands that does, and it’s history goes back to the War of 1812. Quintessa, do you know what happened to the Liberty Tree?”

 

“It was burned down by the British.” Tess replied.

 

“But do you know why?” Dumbledore asked.

 

“Some people say that it was an act of mockery.” said Tess.

 

“Mockery and self triumph.” said Dumbledore. It amazed Harry, the way he was talking to her. It was as if he had been waiting to have this conversation with her for quite some time. “Yes, the Tree was burned down, the original source in America for wand making. When a British wizard destroyed it, all hope was lost, until a witch named Abigail Adams, who was one of the few surviving women of the Daughters of Liberty. She salvaged the last 7 pieces of the roots and branches that were intact and yet still burning from the flames. With a friend's aid forged the wands out of them and in the process, created a failsafe; should the wizard who uses the wand ever be in grave peril, the very thing that was intended to destroy the wood could be used as a beacon of perseverance and hope. Over time, the wands were lost or forgotten. And you Quintessa, hold the last of these precious wands.”

 

“Wow...I never learned that but I still don’t understand **how** I actually conjured a fire whip.” said Tess.

 

“What went through your mind at that moment you were cornered by the Basilisk?” Dumbledore asked with a genuine smile.

 

“At first I felt that there was nothing I could do.” said Tess. “But I think somewhere inside me, there was this gut feeling that I had to try to do something.”

 

“Precisely why the wand chose you, Quintessa.” said Dumbledore proudly. “The qualities needed to activate the failsafe in that wand can only be found when the person is worthy. If you don’t believe me,” He walked to his desk and pulled a powerful glass figure, then put the wand underneath it. “Read the inscription.”

 

Tess brought it up to her eyes and read, “Don’t give up the ship. Fight till she sinks.”

 

“Do you know who said that?” Dumbeldore asked. Tess shook her head no and Dumbledore told her in reply, “He was a wizard by the name of Captain James Lawrence of the Navy, who served fighting in the War of 1812. And from what I hear, he was a brave chap that one, so only a brave girl like yourself would be able to harness the power within that wand.”

 

“Whoa.” Tess breathed, looking at her wand. “I never thought of it that way.”

 

“Every day is a new opportunity to learn something new or unexpected.” said Dumbledore thoughtfully. “Now Harry, so you have met Tom Riddle. I imagine he was most interested in you. . . .”

 

Suddenly, something that was nagging at Harry came tumbling out of his mouth. “Professor Dumbledore . . . Riddle said I’m like him. Strange likenesses, he said. . . .”

 

“Did he, now?” said Dumbledore, looking thoughtfully at Harry from under his thick silver eyebrows.  “And what do you think, Harry?”

 

“I don’t think I’m like him!” said Harry, more loudly than he’d intended. “I mean, I’m — I’m in Gryffindor, I’m . . .” But he fell silent, a lurking doubt resurfacing in his mind. “Professor,” he started again after a moment. “The Sorting Hat told me I’d — I’d have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin’s heir for a while . . . because I can speak Parseltongue. . ..”

 

“You can speak Parseltongue, Harry,” said Dumbledore calmly, “because Lord Voldemort — who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin — can speak Parseltongue. Unless I’m much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure. . . .”

 

“Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?” Harry said, thunderstruck. “It certainly seems so.”

 

“So I should be in Slytherin,” Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore’s face. “The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin’s power in me, and it —”

 

“Put you in Gryffindor,” said Dumbledore calmly. “Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue — resourcefulness — determination — a certain disregard for rules,” he added, his mustache quivering again. “Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think.”

 

“It only put me in Gryffindor,” said Harry in a defeated voice, “because I asked not to go in Slytherin. . . .”

 

“Exactly,” said Dumbledore, beaming once more. “Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities. But that is not the only quality that makes us who we are." He turned to Tess. "Why did you go to Gryffindor?"

 

"Because even though I was new, I didn't care where I went." She said. "I wanted to keep an open mind."  
  


"Exactly." said Dumbledore. "It is not through obtaining knowledge that makes someone, Magical or not, wise. It is how, to the best of our ability, we keep an open mind to the vast unknown."

 

Harry sat motionless in his chair, stunned. “Now if you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at this.” Dumbledore reached across to Professor McGonagall’s desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword, and handed it to Harry. Dully, Harry turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt. Godric Gryffindor. “Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry,” said Dumbledore simply.

 

Suddenly, however, when the door burst open so violently, it bounced back off the wall. Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

 

“Dobby.” Harry whispered. “So this is your master. The family you serve is the Malfoys.”

 

“It’s a small world-” Tess began to sing quietly before being nudged in the arms by Harry.

 

“Good evening, Lucius,” said Dumbledore pleasantly.

 

Mr. Malfoy almost knocked Harry over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face. The elf was carrying a stained rag with which he was attempting to finish cleaning Mr. Malfoy’s shoes. Apparently Mr. Malfoy had set out in a great hurry, for not only were his shoes half-polished, but his usually sleek hair was disheveled. Ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles, he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore. “So!” he said “You’ve come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts.”

 

“Well, you see, Lucius,” said Dumbledore, smiling serenely, “the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They’d heard that Arthur Weasley’s daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too. . . . Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn’t agree to suspend me in the first place.”

 

Mr. Malfoy went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury. “So — have you stopped the attacks yet?” he sneered. “Have you caught the culprit?”

 

“We have,” said Dumbledore, with a smile.

 

“Well?” said Mr. Malfoy sharply. “Who is it?”

 

“The same person as last time, Lucius,” said Dumbledore. “But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary.” He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. Harry, however, was watching Dobby. The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

 

“I see . . .” said Mr. Malfoy slowly to Dumbledore.

 

“A clever plan,” said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Mr. Malfoy straight in the eye. “Because if Harry nor Quintessa here” — Mr. Malfoy shot Harry a swift, sharp look — “and their friend Ron hadn’t discovered this book, why — Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn’t acted of her own free will. . . .” Mr. Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly masklike. “And imagine,” Dumbledore went on, “what might have happened then. . . . The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-borns. . . . Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle’s memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise. . . .” Mr. Malfoy forced himself to speak.

 

“Very fortunate,” he said stiffly. And still, behind his back, Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head. And Harry suddenly understood. He nodded at Dobby, and Dobby backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment.

 

Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf.

 

“We’re going, Dobby!” He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. Harry stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then it came to him — “Professor Dumbledore,” he said hurriedly. “Can I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy, please?” “Certainly, Harry,” said Dumbledore calmly. “But hurry. The feast, remember. . . .” Harry grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office.

 

“Quintessa.” said Dumbledore, handing Tess an envelope. “I do believe some friends of your uncle’s contacted you?”

 

It was Harry’s DNA test.


	38. A House-Elf's Retribution

When Mr. Malfoy and Dobby were walking in the corridors leading out of the castle, Harry wasn’t too far behind, running up to them as he carried Tom Riddle’s Diary

 

“Mr. Malfoy!” He called out. “Mr. Malfoy! I have something of yours.” He practically slapped the diary into the older wizard’s hands, who then pretended to look befuddled.

 

“Mine?” asked Mr. Malfoy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Because you gave it to her,” said Harry. “In Flourish and Blotts that day. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn’t you?” He saw Mr. Malfoy’s white hands clench and unclench. He also could see simmering rage in his cold blue eyes.

 

“Is that so?” He walked up to him slowly and hissed, “Why don’t you prove it?” 

 

Harry stood there, holding his ground and holding back his anger at the fact that since Riddle’s diary was destroyed and Lucius Malfoy was one of the most respected wizards in the Ministry, there was nothing he could do to prove his involvement. 

 

Mr. Malfoy sneered at Harry and turned to his house-elf.  “We’re going, Dobby!”

  
As Malfoy turned his back on them, Harry looked at Dobby and whispered, “Open it.” 

 

Dobby obeyed and turned the pages to find a smelly sock riddled with slime.    
  


“Dobby!” Mr. Malfoy’s voice carried in the stone hall.

 

“Master has given Dobby a sock,” said the elf in wonderment. 

 

“What’s that?” spat Mr. Malfoy. “I didn’t-” 

 

“Got a sock.” said Dobby in disbelief. “Master has presented Dobby with clothes. Dobby is free .” Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf then Harry who lifted his right leg, to reveal that a sock was indeed missing. 

 

“You’ve lost me my servant!” He pulled his own wand that was apparently concealed within the cane and charged forward but Dobby shouted, “You shall not harm Harry Potter!” There was a loud bang, and Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward. He hit the wall and got up, regaining his composure and staring at Harry and Dobby lividly. 

 

“Your parents were meddlesome fools too.” He hissed with ice in his words. “Mark my words, Potter. One day soon, you are going to meet the same sticky end.

 

With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight.

 

Dobby  was holding up Harry’s disgusting, slimy sock, and looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure. “Harry Potter freed Dobby!” said the elf shrilly, gazing up at Harry, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb-like eyes. “Harry Potter set Dobby free!” 

 

“Least I could do, Dobby,” said Harry, grinning.  “I’ve just got one question, Dobby,” said Harry as Dobby pulled on Harry’s sock with shaking hands. “You told me all this had nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, remember? Well —” 

 

“It was a clue, sir,” said Dobby, his eyes widening, as though this was obvious. “Was giving you a clue. The Dark Lord, before he changed his name, could be freely named, you see?” 

 

“Right,” said Harry weakly. “Just promise me one thing.”

 

“Anything sir.” said Dobby without the slightest tinge of hesitation. 

 

“Never try to save my life again.” 

 

The elf’s ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile. 


	39. The Welcome Back Feast

Harry and Tess had been to several Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this. By the time they got to the Great Hall, they were surprised to see everybody in their pajamas. There was plenty of food to go around and friends reuniting with those who were Petrified. Even Snape wasn't scowling at the celebration before him, except for when he saw Harry and Tess walk in the Hall. Of course they would carry their Polyjuice Potion experience with them as The-Plan-That-Shall-Not-Be-Mentioned even though Snape was still convinced it was them who had caused the Swelling Solution disaster. 

To absolutely no one's surprise, except for his fangirls, a certain Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher wasn't present at the staff table, but Tess couldn't care less. The Heir of Slytherin was defeated, no one died and everyone was UnPetrified, as Hagrid once put it. Speaking of whom, he was still due to arrive from Azkaban but he hadn't shown yet.

But for everyone else, Hogwarts was safe from peril. What could make tonight better?

"I don't understand what any of this is." Ron looked over Harry's DNA test. "What the bloody hell is an Rh factor?"

"That's a conversation for when you're older." Tess teased, taking the paper from his hands. "But Harry, do you know what this means?"

"I'm not related to Slytherin." Harry deadpanned. "But I think that was cleared up in Dumbledore's office."

"But still." said Tess. "Whatever language you speak, whosoever blood runs through your veins, you, Harry Potter are still our best friend." She held his hand and they hugged. "Come on Ron."

"Ok, ok." Ron chuckled joining in. 

"Hey!" Neville tapped Harry's shoulder. "It's Hermione!"

The three wizards looked over the people seated next to them and sure enough, it was Gryffindor's resident book lover, Hermione Granger. She was standing at the door looking at the Gryffindor Table. She started running towards them and they met up with each other in the aisle between tables and hugged each other like there was no tomorrow. Well, except for Ron, they stood there, looking at each other and just shook hands. ("I wish I had a camera." Tess had whispered to Harry.)

“You solved it! You solved it!” Hermione had almost screamed. 

"You're back, that's more important!" Tess exclaimed back.

"Well we had loads of help from you Hermione." said Harry. 

"We couldn't have done it without you." said Ron.

"Thanks." said Hermione just as Professor McGonagall tapped her glass with her spoon, commanding the attention of the entire school.

Quickly, the Quartet took their seats at their table when Dumbledore stood up to say a few words:

"Before we begin the feast, let us have a round of applause for Professor Sprout, Madam Pomfery, whose Mandrake Juice has been so sucessfully administered, to all who have been Petrified." Everyone, even some of the Slytherins clapped for this achievement, while Ron clapped Ginny's shoulder and gave her a look of reassurance. "Also in light of recent events, as a school treat, all exams have been cancelled."

Instantly, there was an uproar of cheers that filled the ears of everyone in the Great Hall at this news. Well, save for Hermione who exclaimed, "Oh no!" Tess only laughed at this.

Suddenly, the magnificent doors of the Hall opened and standing at the doorway, was none other than Rubeus Hagrid. 

"Sorry I'm late." He said walking down the Hall. "The owl that delivered my release papers got all lost and confused. Some ruddy bird called Erroll."

Knowing full well who owned that bird, the students sniggered and Ron's face turned the color of his tie. "Gee." Tess wondered. "I wonder that belongs too."

Hagrid stopped his trek, right in front of the reunited Golden Quartet-who looked happier to see him than ever before. Of course Hermione had some catching up to do on what happened while she was Petrified, but she still missed him anyway. 

"I'd just like ter say, tha' if it hadn't been for yeh, Harry, Ron, Tess, and Hermione of course, I'd uh, I'd still be you-know-where. So I'd just like to say, thanks." By the end of his small speech, Hagrid looked like he was going to cry.

Wanting to comfort his friend, Harry got up and said, "There's no Hogwarts without you Hagrid." He then gave him a hug, almost getting his arms around his enormous torso. It seemed the touching scene had some sort of impact because as soon as the rest of the Golden Quartet joined in, the entire school started applauding Hagrid's return. Yes, their gamekeeper was here to stay and wasn't going anywhere.

After Hagrid's heartwarming welcome, Harry didn’t know whether the best bit was Gryffindor securing the House Cup for the second year running, or Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news. “Shame,” said Ron, helping himself to a jam doughnut. “He was starting to grow on me.” 

"Harry?" Justin was standing next to them with an apologetic look on his face. "Harry, I am so sorry. I should never have been such a git, suspecting you and your friend for being behind it all, I should never have judged you because you're a Parslemouth. I am so, so, so sorry."

"Justin." Harry interrupted the Hufflepuff before he could continue. "Apology already accepted." The second years shook hands and Justin departed but not before yelling out, "I'm sorry!" over the crowds of chatter.

The celebrations lasted all night and it was a fantastic way to end an inscrutable year.


	40. Return to the No-Maj World

The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences — Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were canceled (“but we’ve had plenty of practice at that anyway,” Ron told a disgruntled Hermione) and Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary, he looked resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again and Tess started talking to her about what it meant to be a girl at Hogwarts, with some help from Hermione of course.

Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Tess, Fred, George, and Ginny got a compartment to themselves. They made the most of the last few hours in which they were allowed to do magic before the holidays. They played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Fred and George’s Filibuster fireworks, and practiced disarming each other by magic. Harry was getting very good at it. They were almost at King’s Cross when Harry remembered something. “Ginny — what did you see Percy doing, that he didn’t want you to tell anyone?”

“Oh, that,” said Ginny, giggling.

“Well — Percy’s got a girlfriend.” Fred dropped a stack of books on George’s head. “What?”

“It’s that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater,” said Ginny. “That’s who he was writing to all last summer. He’s been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was — you know — attacked. You won’t tease him, will you?” she added anxiously.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Fred, who was looking like his birthday had come early.

“Definitely not,” said George, sniggering.

"One word." Tess smiled mischiviously. "Blackmail." This prompted a high five between the three while Ron rolled his eyes at them.

The Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped. Harry pulled out his quill and a bit of parchment and turned to Ron and Hermione. “This is called a telephone number,” he told Ron, scribbling it three times, tearing the parchment in three, and handing it to them. “I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer — he’ll know. Call me at the Dursleys’, okay? I can’t stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to. . . .”

“Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won’t they?” said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. “When they hear what you did this year? “Proud?” said Harry. “Are you crazy? All those times I could’ve died, and I didn’t manage it? They’ll be furious. . . .” 

"Not to worry." Tess stuffed the piece of parchment in her jean pockets. "If things get too shitty, give me a call and I might have a hex or two up my sleeve."

"You know we're not supposed to use magic outside of school!" Hermione scolded her friend. Tess' purple eyes widened.

"Wait, that's an actual rule?" Tess asked. "That explains why those letters kept coming from the Ministry."

While Hermione brought her palm to her face, Harry smiled at his friends as the train. "Well the good news is, another case is solved by the Golden Quartet."

Ron gave his friend an annoyed look. "Tess, **no** **one** calls us that."

She only scoffed as a reply. "Yeah, well I do."

And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.


End file.
